


Serpent in the Shadows

by Selenay



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Children, Drama, First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-01
Updated: 2004-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 91,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jak Kern's only lead in the disappearance of his son is hidden in an obscure manuscript. Denil of Errith is pulled away from his quiet scholar's life by Jak's plea for help, but neither of them could have known where the search would take them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note on the origin: Back in November 2002, Biblio issued a challenge to the Alpha Gate list to write an AU taking the characters from SG and putting them into a a different setting. At first I didn't have any ideas, but after a couple of weeks this little plot bunny started nibbling at my ankles. It grew and refused to be quiet, so 'Serpent in the Shadows' was born. I'm assured that Stargate fans will recognise familiar characters and images, but non-Stargate fans can read it just as well because I ended up writing this as though it was an original novel. In fact, it's much closer to an original novel than I ever imagined it would be when this teeny little plot bunny started nibbling over a year ago. They say 'write what you know' and my home genre is fantasy, so this is probably the first AU Stargate high fantasy fic out there.
> 
> Acknowledgments: This novel owes a lot of its existence to Aloysius. In March 2003 I had about twenty pages written, but I wasn't sure whether it would interest anyone else. I wanted to finish it, but I didn't feel all that positive about publishing it. Alo listened to me babbling about it in a pub in Oxford and demanded that I finish it. Knowing that there would at least be an audience of one, I knuckled down and have been working on it intensively, obsessively, since May. Nine months. Wow. Throughout that time Alo has encouraged me and been an ear when I needed to babble about it. She also took on the mammoth task of beta-ing this and it wouldn't be the fic it is without her support and encouragement. She really deserves co-writer credits :-) So you can either thank or blame her for getting this fic published.
> 
> Thanks also go out to Joy, Beth, Kate, Nic, Annie, DM, the rest of the FDAS crew and anyone else who has encouraged me while I've been finishing this - I'm very lucky to have such lovely friends. I'm writing this the morning after the Oscars so I feel like I should be thanking my mom and my lawyer, too, but I think that's the signal to stop thanking people and point you in the direction of the story.

The room was warm and well lit. Most of the light came from lanterns and candles around a large desk in one corner and the farthest corners were darkly shadowed. Firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls and made the room feel comfortable and welcoming. A couple of over-stuffed armchairs flanked the fireplace with a brightly coloured rag rug between them. A door opposite the fireplace led into a darkened bedroom but it was obvious that the room's owner spent most nights on the couch next to his desk.

The only sound in the room was the steady scratch of a pen on paper and the occasional noise of shuffling papers. Denil had been working steadily since before dawn, barely aware of the changing light and long hours. He had ignored the boys who came in and lit the candles and had no idea that there was a long-standing rota of students who came in to feed his fire and add oil to his lanterns. The delicate, crackling pages that he was translating demanded his complete attention and he would not stop until he fell asleep at his desk or something interrupted him.

He jumped and almost knocked over his inkpot when someone roughly shook his shoulder.

"Denil of Errith?" a voice asked.

Denil reassured himself that the precious papers had escaped harm and put the lid on his ink before turning in the chair to look up at the interloper. An irritated retort died on his tongue and he was reduced to stuttering twice and giving up. The man in front of him was a stranger. Denil might not spend much time in the university common rooms but he was sure that he had never seen this man before. Amused brown eyes stared down at him and Denil cursed inwardly as he realised that he must look like a stammering fool. The man had greying hair and lines around his eyes but they implied a slightly battered vitality rather than approaching senility.

"Denil of Errith?" the man asked again.

"Uh, yes."

A crooked smile crossed the man's face. "So you can talk! For a moment I was afraid I'd been sent to seek out a mute."

"No, I'm not a mute. I'm just surprised." Denil cleared his throat and wished the man would sit down. "I don't get many people simply walking into my rooms."

"I knocked. Three times. I called your name. I wasn't going to walk away just because you don't answer your door."

"Oh." Denil winced. "I was in the middle of something. I can get a little engrossed."

"I noticed."

There was silence for a long moment. Denil could not stop staring up at the man and hoped he did not look as much like a gaping fish as he felt. All his usual verbosity had deserted him the moment this man shook his shoulder.

"So . . ."

"So . . ."

They broke off and eyed each other warily. Eventually, the man held out his hand and Denil shook it.

"Jak Kern," the stranger introduced himself. "I've been looking for you."

"So I gathered."

"I need your help on something."

"I can try."

Jak shook his head. "It's not a simple matter. Could I sit down?"

Denil nodded and gestured to one of the chairs by the hearth. "Would you like something to drink?"

Jak sank into the chair gratefully and stretched out his legs. "That would be great. I could eat if you've got anything."

Denil had barely pulled the bell chord to summon someone when his door opened and a tousled blonde head peeked around it. The head belonged to a ten year-old boy called Jame that Denil had been tutoring in Old Elvish.

"Can I get you anything?" Jame asked, staring at Jak with wide eyes.

"Tea?" Denil said uncertainly, watching Jak's expression for clues. "Or maybe wine. We could probably eat whatever the kitchen is serving tonight."

Jame nodded and scampered out. Denil sat down opposite Jak and rotated his neck to work out the kinks and cramps from spending hours bent over his studies. Jak had his eyes closed but his body radiated tension. His plain linen shirt, grey jerkin and loose breeches were labourer's clothing but the sword belted at his waist and the knife handles poking out of the tops of his boots told Denil that he was not that easily categorised. The cut of the jerkin looked to be from Entorn, but the nearest border of that country was at least two weeks journey from the university.

"What are you looking for?" Jak asked without opening his eyes. "I'm not going to eat you or turn into a demon, don't you worry."

"I wasn't worried," Denil said quickly, flushing. "I was just wondering where you came from."

"Here and there. I've been living in Genta for the past few years."

Genta was a town to the east and slightly north of the university, just over the border in Entorn. It was also the town that held the main academy of wizards. Jak did not look to be a tradesman or a servant and his eyes were brown so he couldn't be a wizard. The only trades that left were guard, constable or mercenary.

"I'm with the Genta Watch," Jak elaborated. "They've given me a long sabbatical from duty for this."

The scholar was saved from trying to make a reply by a knock at the door. Jame entered with a tray and hovered in the middle of the room, looking for a safe place to put it. Denil found a low table hidden under several maps in a dark corner and dragged it over to the armchairs. The boy put his tray on the table along with two flasks of wine and left the room with a shy smile for Denil.

"You've got an admirer," Jak observed.

Denil was busy taking the covers off the plates and finding a safe place for them, finally just deciding to put them on the floor.

"I'm teaching him," he said when it became obvious that some response was required. "He has a talent for languages."

"So do you, I've been told. Twenty, is it?"

"Twenty-three," Denil corrected absently, his nose twitching at the aroma rising from the plates.

"Who's counting? That smells good."

Denil handed Jak a plate and cutlery before taking his own and sitting down again. The kitchen had sent slices of beef covered with gravy, roasted potatoes and parsnips, and a dish of green beans and carrots. He helped himself to a good portion of the vegetables and handed the dish to Jak. Both men ate in silence, devouring the food as though they had been starved for a week. There was a basket of bread to mop up the gravy and Denil was eating his second piece before he felt ready to ask questions.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Jak poured them each a cup of wine and raised his in a silent toast.

"I can't tell you until I know you're going to help me," he said.

Denil shook his head. "How can I agree to help if I don't know what you need? I could be committing myself to anything."

"I'm not asking you to kill anyone or do anything you might have some ethical thing about. I just need a translation," Jak said.

"A translation of what? And why come to me?"

Jak shrugged. "They said you're the best."

"What is the translation?"

"Ah, now there's where we hit that pesky 'can't tell you until you agree to help' thing. It's not my condition. The folks who sent me wouldn't want me telling everyone I meet about this."

Denil raised an eyebrow. "I'm not everyone. I'm just one linguist."

"There's a principle involved here. Don't ask me what it is, but I'm told there's a principle. It's something about ignorance and knowledge that went way over my head when they explained. They seemed pretty adamant about it and I find that letting wizards have their way over something they're adamant about is much less painful in the long term."

"Wizards?" Denil shook his head. "In that case you can forget it and find another linguist. Wizards always have their own schedule and usually consider the people they employ to be expendable."

"I can make it worth your while," Jak said, patting a pouch on his belt significantly. "Wizards pay well."

"I'd have a better return on my investment if I sold my soul to a demon," Denil noted.

"Some things are worth more than a soul," Jak muttered quietly.

"Such as?"

* * *

Jak studied the man sitting opposite him and weighed up his choices. Denil had a determined set to his chin and probably had a stubborn streak a mile wide. The books and artefacts that filled the room were worth a small fortune and yet the man was clad in threadbare old clothes that should have been cut up for rags years ago. He had shown no interest in the heavy pouch of money and everything about him suggested that money would not motivate him. On the other hand, his blue eyes were expressive and filled with honesty. Maybe the truth was the only thing Jak had that could tempt the linguist.

Denil was staring at him with open curiosity, his eyes flickering over his face and taking in everything. Jak knew that he had to make a choice or risk losing his only chance at saving his son.

"Can I trust you?" he asked.

Denil did not hesitate. "Yes. I give you my word that I won't betray anything you say in this room."

Oddly, Jak found that he believed the man. Ordinarily trust did not come easily to him but he found himself fighting against an instinctive faith in the linguist. He needed Denil's help so Jak allowed himself to stop fighting and just trust in his own instincts.

"I need your help to find my son," he said quietly.

Denil's eyes widened and instantly filled with compassion.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"There's a book that might hold clues about where my son was taken. The problem is that nobody recognises the language so the wizards have no idea what the book says. We need you to do the translation."

"Do you have it with you?"

"No. The wizards wouldn't let me take it out of their library. I have to take you to it."

Denil stared into his cup of wine and seemed surprised to find that it was empty. He re-filled it and offered the flask to Jak.

"What happened to your son?" Denil asked.

Jak took a large gulp of wine before answering. "I'm not entirely sure. I was putting him to bed two months ago when a blue...vortex, they called it...appeared. Four men came through. I tried to hold them off but it was my son's bedroom and I don't allow weapons in there. When I came round the vortex was gone and so was Charry. I haven't seen him since. The wizards have never heard of anything like it before. I found a book in the restricted section of their library with a picture on the front that looks just like the vortex. It's the only hint I've found but nobody can even tell me whether it's relevant. I'm told that you're the leading authority on dead languages so here I am."

Denil was silent for a while, sipping his wine and staring into the fireplace. He refilled the cup and had almost drained it again before he spoke.

"Let me think on it tonight and I'll give you my answer tomorrow," he said. "You can't go anywhere tonight anyway. There's a storm coming in and you'll be hip deep in snow before you find an inn."

Jak could not see out of the windows, shutters covered them all, but he had been out there less than two hours ago and the sky had been clear.

"How can you be so certain?"

A faint smile played at the edge of Denil's lips. "I have weather-sense. A useless gift for a scholar, but at least I never get caught out in the rain."

"I can think of a few uses," Jak mused.

"I'm sure you can, but my studies take precedence over everything else for me."

"Everything?"

Denil nodded. "Everything."

Jak could not imagine a book or an idea that was important enough to sacrifice everything for. He knew that he would be willing to give up everything for Charry but his son was not an abstract concept. The boy was a flesh and blood human, his son in every way that mattered, and he would challenge any father to feel differently. Ideas, even books, paled into significance compared to the feelings a person could have for another person.

"Are your studies more important than my son?" Jak asked.

"I don't know." Denil refused to meet his eyes. "There are a lot of issues to consider. It would take at least a month to get to Genta, and then there's no knowing how long the translation would take. You don't even know what the language is. If it's one I know then I could have your answers in a few days but if I have to start from scratch with a new language...it could take me months."

Jak focused on the only part of the speech that he could challenge. "Two weeks. It only took me two weeks to get here so it will take us two weeks to return."

Denil shook his head. "There are storm systems piling up around us. You only just got here before winter began. If we want to get to Genta alive, we'll have to travel slowly and find shelter during each storm otherwise we could die out there in a few hours."

"You know this for certain?"

"I do. I can feel the storms out there."

"How long will tonight's storm last?"

"A day, maybe two."

Two days. Maybe a month or more travelling and then the time to translate. Jak could feel Charry getting further and further away.

"I'll have an answer for you by the time you leave," Denil said quietly. "My word on it."

Jak took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. The wine and the exhaustion from two weeks of hard travel must be affecting his emotions. It was taking all his restraint not to break down and beg for Denil's help. Maybe by the time the storm ended that restraint would be gone. He reached for the second flask of wine and was surprised to find only a drop sloshing in the bottom. They had consumed it all between them. Denil did not seem affected but when he looked closer he could see that the linguist's eyes were slightly glassy and he was using exaggerated caution as he put his cup on the table.

"You look like you could use some sleep," Denil suggested.

"I look drunk," Jak corrected. "But I could use some sleep. Do you have any guest rooms here?"

Denil began collecting up the plates and cups and putting them on the tray.

"You can take mine," he offered as he carried the tray to the door.

Jak was not naïve enough to put his sudden flush of heat down to the wine. Denil was an attractive man and it had been a long time since he'd had the time to look at anyone. Jak was also not stupid enough to mix sex with business and if he handled Denil wrong then he would lose any chance at finding his son.

"Where will you sleep?" he asked carefully.

Denil did not reply for a moment. He opened the door and handed the tray to the student waiting outside, whispering something to him before he closed the door.

"I usually sleep on the couch," Denil said. "You won't be putting me out."

"Thank you," Jak said.

He stood and followed Denil's gesture into the bedroom. A moment later he swore and moved back to the doorway.

"Denil, it's freezing in here," he complained. "A man could die of frostbite by morning."

The linguist was already pulling blankets and a pallet out of a cupboard.

"I know. The man who owned these rooms before me was paranoid and had all the hearths blocked. I've never got around to getting that one fixed."

Jak stalked across the room and helped Denil to make up a pallet on the floor near the fire.

"How long have you had these rooms?" he asked.

Denil shrugged. "Five years or so. Something else always seems to be more important."

Jak flicked a meaningful glance at the cluttered desk. "I can guess what. You need to get something else in your life."

"I'm fine, Jak," Denil said as he straightened up. "I guess this is something you'll never understand."

"No, it probably isn't."

Jak pulled off his boots and unbuckled his sword to prop it up by one of the armchairs. After a slight hesitation he put his pouch of money on the table so it would not jab him in the back while he slept and tucked one of his knives under his pillow. Denil said nothing about the knife although his expression spoke volumes. Jak returned the look, challenging him to say something, but the linguist just shrugged and pulled off his own boots. It was only when Jak was trying to find a comfortable position on the pallet that he realised they had left all the candles and lanterns blazing. Denil, a lumpy shape under his blankets on the couch, did not seem worried about it but Jak had never been able to sleep in a lit room. The candles needed to be snuffed and the fire banked so that nothing could accidentally catch fire during the night.

He had just made up his mind to get up and put out the candles when sleep stole over him and tugged him abruptly into darkness.

* * *

The study was cold and silent when Jak woke up. His pallet provided little comfort on the hard floor and the fire that had burned so warmly last night was now just ash. He rolled over and grunted quietly as stiff, cold joints protested painfully.

 _Maybe the bed in the cold bedroom might not have been such a bad idea,_ he thought.

It certainly did not feel like the floor was the better option in the freezing light of day. There was a cold draft blowing across him from somewhere.

Jak propped himself up on his elbows and squinted around the dim room. The shutters on the window had been thrown open but little light came though. Apparently, Denil had been right about the storm.

The couch in the corner was empty, although the blankets were rumpled and the pillow still held a faint impression of Denil's head. Jak could tell with one glance that the scholar was no longer in the rooms. There was nowhere to hide and it looked like the papers on the desk had been tidied slightly. There also did not seem to be any notes or clues as to Denil's current whereabouts.

The room was getting colder by the minute and Jak shivered as the draft viciously blew into a gap between his back and the blankets. He threw them back and stood up to stretch the stiffness and kinks out of his joints before rolling up the pallet and putting it back in its cupboard. He would probably need it again. A quick glance out of the window had shown a blizzard outside and Jak suspected that it would be nightfall before the snow stopped.

His pack and sword leaned against the wall next to the door and Jak could easily see that neither had been touched while he slept. Denil was either highly incurious, a trait Jak could not believe of the scholar, or he was surprisingly honest. From his observations last night, Jak was inclined towards the second option.

The chilly room was starting to make him shiver. Jak dug clean, warmer clothes out of his pack and looked around the room again, wondering where he could relieve himself and wash up. A quiet giggle from beyond the study's outer door made him frown until he remembered the students who had been 'guarding' Denil's door last night. They would certainly know their way around the university and would probably be able to give him some clues as to Denil's location. Jak rolled his shaving kit up with his clothes and opened the door, shivering harder at the blast of cold air that met him.

Two girls were sitting on the bench next to the door. At least, Jak assumed they were girls from the long blonde braids they each wore. They were both bundled in blue breeches and thick woollen sweaters with brightly coloured, striped scarves wrapped around their necks. Their fingerless gloves had stripes to match the scarves and they were concentrating intently on the string cats-cradle on one girl's fingers. The other girl made some complicated finger movements and the string was transferred to her in an even more complex pattern.

Jak cleared his throat and the girls jumped, the cats-cradle holder losing her grip on the string so that it ended up in a tangled snarl. She tugged at it and frowned as the knots tightened around her fingers. The faces that turned to him with identical pouts were so alike that Jak concluded they were twins.

"Hi," he said, giving them a small wave and trying to look friendly.

The blonde twins stared at him with matching looks of suspicion.

"I'm Jak," he continued. "A friend of Denil's."

"Master Denil said you were here," one of the girls said.

"He's gone out," her twin added.

"I noticed," Jak said. "Do you know where he's gone?"

The girls exchanged glances and then the one with the cats-cradle held up her tangled hands.

"That depends..." she said pointedly.

Jak grinned at her before putting his rolled clothes on the bench and kneeling down in front of her to tackle the knots.

"What are your names?" he asked.

The girl with the cats-cradle, who Jak was quickly realising was the leader of the pair, offered him a sweet smile and said, "I'm Anna. This is Sanna. We're twins."

Jak winced. Some parents had a dreadful sense of humour when it came to naming their children.

"Nice to meet you," was all he said as he raised Anna's hands to look at the knots more closely. "Come here often?"

The twins giggled.

"We have the morning watch for Master Denil on Secondays," Anna said. "He normally invites us to breakfast but he said that he didn't want to wake you up so he went to Master Sai'em's and told us to wait for you." She took a hasty gulp of air. "So we waited."

Jak tugged at a piece of string and watched the tangled mess unravel and land on the floor.

"So where is Master Sai'em?" he asked, standing and brushing dust off his breeches.

"She lives in the North Tower," Anna said.

"They make her live there," Sanna added.

"Because she makes loud bangs."

"And they don't want her to make the university go bang."

"Sometimes it's pretty loud."

Jak chuckled at their unconscious double act. "Could you take me there?"

They exchanged glances and Anna nodded.

He held up his roll of clothes. "Is there anywhere I can clean up and change first? I've been on the road so long it feels like the dirt is embedded in my skin."

Sanna silently pointed at a door on the opposite side of the corridor and then both girls giggled again.

Jak followed their directions, allowing himself a slight grin at their antics, and closed the door behind him. The room he stepped into was nothing like any bathroom he had ever seen before. The flagstone flooring was familiar enough but the plumbing was completely alien. A basin was set into a counter to his left but there were no jugs of water to fill it. He was not intending to take a bath but he could not quite see how the sunken bath set into the floor could be emptied. There were levers set into the walls above it and Jak noticed similar ones above the basin. Even the toilet looked odd, with a tank suspended from the ceiling above it connected by a wide pipe.

"Okay, scholars are stranger than wizards," he muttered.

He eventually found instructions under a towel on the counter and managed to work out most of it. The toilet was mostly normal apart from the rush of water that appeared when he pulled a chain. The levers controlled the flow of water into the basin and another raised a plug in a hole in the bottom that allowed the water to escape. It took a couple of attempts before he managed to get the right combination of hot and cold water. He dunked his head in the warm water and then stripped to wash. There was a clean towel warming on a rack of metal tubes and Jak was finally starting to feel warmer by the time he was dressed.

When he left Genta, he had only thought about getting to Eto as fast as possible and not about the encroaching seasons. He had one pair of thick breeches and a couple of winter shirts. The rest of his gear was more suited to early autumn rather than winter. It seemed hard to believe that Charry had disappeared at the end of summer. Even though winter had come early, it still meant that Charry had been gone for over two months.

Jak pushed away the doubts that kept rising in his mind.

He pulled on both shirts and his grey jacket. He had no comb so he ran his hands through his damp hair to tidy it. Then he rolled up his dirty clothes and stepped out of the bathroom. The twins giggled at him as he went across the corridor to Denil's study. The dirty clothes went into his pack and he dug out a second pair of socks before pulling on his boots. Both knives were still in their sheaths stitched into the boots. Jak could also feel the reassuring weight of a knife strapped to each forearm hidden beneath his shirtsleeves. He wrapped his jacket close around himself and belted it securely. Then he secured his sword belt and automatically settled his sword against his left hip. Another knife hung from the belt at his right. Maybe it was a little excessive in a university filled with peaceful scholars but twenty years as a fighter had made him feel naked with weaponry. Jak dug into his pack again and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves before stepping out of the study.

The blonde twins gaped at him.

"You've got a sword," Anna breathed.

"Can we play with it?" Sanna asked.

"No!" Jak said quickly and then softened his voice when he saw fear appear in their wide blue eyes. "No, kids. It's dangerous and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Sorry," they chorused.

Jak gave them a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You're just a little young for that stuff. Now, where is Master Sai'em?"

The two girls led him down what felt like miles of corridors. Some were wide echoing halls lined with portraits and sculptures while others were narrow and drafty. The girls pointed out things as they went, favourite paintings and statues and the doors to the studies of their teachers. From their chatter, Jak gathered that Denil was a favourite with both of them and had endless patience for their questions.

The corridors he passed through were filled with a king's ransom in precious objects. Jak managed to read a few of the cards carefully propped against them as he passed and whistled under his breath at a three thousand year old figurine from the old kingdom of Gilder. That state had collapsed more than twenty-five centuries ago, leaving an untamed wilderness that was periodically fought over by neighbouring countries when they were trying to expand. Gilder had not been successfully claimed since Eville of Eshan conquered most of the western states five centuries ago. The Eshan Empire collapsed fifty years later.

The Gilderaan figurine alone was probably worth a small country's treasury. It was no wonder that so many men had tried to annex the city state of Eto. The university was probably as wealthy as the wizards' academy in Genta. That probably also explained why Eto had stayed independent for so long; nobody was willing to let a rival control that kind of wealth. The frustrating thing for all those would-be conquerors was that the scholars of Eto were more concerned with preserving history through their collection than they were with the wealth or power they possessed.

On one of the narrower, plainer corridors Jak passed an open doorway and paused to listen. Ten students in their late teens were sitting in a semi-circle listening to a man in his forties. The lecturer had a quiet, dry tone but the rapt attention of his audience indicated that he was more interesting than he appeared to be.

A small hand tugged at the hem of Jak's jacket and he looked down to see one of the twins frowning at him.

"Come on," she said imperiously.

The other twin joined her. "That's a philosophy class."

"You don't want to listen to that."

"The older kids say that it makes you go crazy."

Jak allowed himself to be pulled away as he tried to work out which twin was which. He had one hanging on to each hand and at first glance they appeared to be completely identical. After a while, though, he found that there were tiny differences between them. One was slightly taller, maybe half an inch, and the other had a narrower face. The taller girl's braid was tied with a red ribbon while the other had a short piece of black leather. It was the taller girl who seemed to take the lead more so Jak concluded that she must be Anna.

Eventually they came to a winding staircase and the twins released Jak's hands so that they could run ahead while he followed slightly more slowly. The staircase ended in a short landing with on open door leading off. The girls were standing impatiently next to it, Anna tapping her foot in a gesture twenty years too old for her. Jak motioned them to be quiet and spent a minute standing at the door watching the room's occupants.

Denil was standing beside a blond woman next to a table covered with papers. They were bent intently over one page, their heads close together as they spoke quietly, and Jak felt a moment's jealousy at their easy companionship. He banished it quickly.

Denil looked as threadbare and mismatched as he had yesterday, although he did seem to be wearing warmer clothes now. His russet jacket reached his knees, his brown breeches looked thicker and his linen shirt was mostly hidden by a long green scarf. There were liberal ink stains on his fingers and sleeves in direct contrast to his companion.

She was only an inch shorter than Denil, with long, slender limbs and an unconscious grace even just standing next to a table. Even her fingers were unusually slender and elegant. Slightly pointed ears peeping out of her short blonde hair gave Jak the final clue to her heritage. Her breeches and long coat were in varying shades of blue, with complex patterns of embroidery in shimmering white on the hems. The room was cool despite a fire roaring in the hearth to Jak's right but the woman did not appear to notice.

Anna poked Jak in the leg, glaring at him, and he realised that he had been staring for several minutes. He shooed the twins in and hung back in the doorway to watch as they burst into the study. Denil and the woman looked up with matching expressions of surprise in their blue eyes.

"Master Sai'em! Master Denil!" Anna and Sanna chorused.

Anna stepped forward. "We brought your Jak for you, Master Denil. Do you have any breakfast for us?"

The woman, Master Sai'em, raised an eyebrow at Denil before turning back to the girls. "Why would you think that I have any breakfast for you?"

"Because you always do," Anna said with the confidence of a child who knows certain universal truths.

"I do?"

The twins nodded vigorously.

Master Sai'em grinned at them. "Then I guess you'd better come with me. Denil, maybe you could invite your Jak to breakfast?"

There was just the slightest hint of a lilting accent in her amused voice.

Jak turned to Denil in time to catch a faint flush in his cheeks but the man held up his chin and his eyes dared Jak to comment.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Denil asked calmly.

"If you're offering, I'd love some," Jak replied with a grin.

Denil gestured toward the door that Master Sai'em and the twins had disappeared through.

Jak joined him and whispered, "Elf?"

Denil paused in the doorway. "Half. On her father's side."

"That's what I thought."

It was the first time that Jak had ever heard of an elf leaving one of their cities to live among humans.

"If you want to know anything else you should ask her," Denil said quietly and went through the door.

The room that Jak was led into was smaller than the workroom and the large fireplace actually seemed to be doing its job of warming the room. Clear globes of white light hanging near the ceiling lit the room. Jak recognised the mage-lights, a steadier form of light than candles or lanterns, and found that they also lit the workroom. The wizards would have a fit if they knew that someone outside their order was using that magic, although he had a feeling that there was little that wizards would dare to do to elves.

The twins were busily carrying plates of sausages, eggs and bacon from the fireplace to a table that dominated the room, under Master Sai'em's watchful eyes. She handed a teapot to Denil and carried a rack of toast to the table. The twins sat down on a bench on one side and Master Sai'em took her seat at the head of the table. Jak quickly took his seat next to Denil on the bench on the other side. Anna smiled happily across at him before tucking into her food. There was silence for a while as they all ate hungrily and then Master Sai'em cleared her throat.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asked.

Denil swallowed hastily and said, "Sai'em, this is Jak Kern. Jak, meet Sai'emanthadrellan á Jacrodellané of the ice elves."

"Nice to meet you..." Jak trailed off has his mind balked at the woman's full name.

She gave him an understanding grin. "Just Sai'em will do. The full version is a bit of a mouthful for humans."

"I noticed."

"Sai'em's our master of the physical world." Denil added. "She's trying to find out how everything works."

"I'm told that involves a lot of bangs," Jak said blandly.

Sanna squeaked and focused intently on a sausage.

"Sometimes my experiments don't go as planned," Sai'em said, "but I learn just as much from experiments that go wrong as I do from experiments with perfect results. With Denil's help, I've been able to translate texts that have added enormously to my own understanding. It's amazing how much you've already learned but just allowed to moulder away in libraries without really using it. There's information there that could have been incredibly useful years ago but nobody bothered to continue the research after the author died."

"Master Sai'em made the bathrooms have hot water," Anna added helpfully through a mouthful of egg. "The Dean says it's the only useful thing to have come out of the North Tower since - ow! Why did you kick me?"

Sanna continued to innocently eat her breakfast.

There was an uncomfortable silence around the table as the adults tried to avoid looking at each other. After a minute, Anna made a quiet 'oh' sound and bent her head to stare intently at her breakfast.

Sai'em reached out and rested a hand on the girl's arm. "It's alright, Anna. I know what the Dean thinks about my research. It's really no secret."

The blonde girl gave her a small smile that widened when she saw only affection and honesty in Sai'em's eyes. The elf squeezed her arm reassuringly before turning her clear blue eyes on Jak.

"So, Mesire Kern, what brings you to our university?" she asked.

"I'm on wizards' business," he replied smoothly. "Confidential wizards' business."

"You work for them?"

"No, I just happened to be around when they needed me. I'm commander of the Genta Watch, currently on sabbatical until the wizards are finished with me."

Denil snorted quietly. "There are some people who would say that wizards are never finished once they get their claws into you."

"What does that mean?" Anna asked curiously, her confidence already restored.

Sai'em gave the scholar a hard stare before turning to Anna. "Nothing you need to understand yet. You'll know when you're older."

"We're always too young," Anna muttered grumpily. "We're ten years old."

"Almost," Sanna added.

"Take advantage of it while you can," Jak advised. "When you get older, everyone will expect you to understand so much 'stuff' that you'll think you're head might explode."

Sai'em pushed aside her empty plate and picked up her mug of tea. "Would you like to play with the magic dust?"

The twins exchanged glances before breaking into grins and chorusing, "Yeah!"

"Magic dust?" Jak mouthed to Denil.

He just smiled mysteriously and beckoned Jak to followed the elf and the twins back into the workroom.

* * *

Denil was surprised to see that dusk had fallen and the storm has eased off to a gentle snowfall by the time he and Jak began walking back to his rooms. Sai'em had spent a long time explaining 'magic dust' to Jak and its use to show fingerprints on surfaces. The commander's eyes had glazed slightly when Sai'em began explaining how the dust stuck to the fingerprints but he had quickly grasped the relevance to his own work and now had a bottle of the dust to experiment with. From there Sai'em had gone on to explain other ideas she was working on, some of which even went over Denil's head, until she noticed the twins curled up asleep in an armchair and realised how long she had kept them. Sometimes the elf's time-perception ran differently to a human's. Jak, though, had shown a surprising intelligence beneath the cynical, disinterested face he showed the world. He was also a firm hit with the twins and Denil could easily imagine that he would be a great father.

A father.

It was hard to believe that the man striding along next to him, taking in the university's collection of artefacts with apparent interest, was a father desperate enough to travel all this way with winter threatening just to follow up an incredibly slender lead in his son's disappearance. But Denil had seen the look in his eyes when he spoke about Charry and he had decided then that he would help in any way he could. It had never been in doubt. The only thing that had held him back was his responsibility to his own students. That had been sorted out with a few early morning visits to other masters, though, so all he had to do was tell Jak.

"So, Jak, the snow should stop by midnight," Denil began quietly. "When do you want to leave?"

There was no explosion, no outpouring of gratitude, just a small smile.

"First light."

* * *

First light found them standing in one of the courtyards waiting for sleepy, shivering grooms to saddle their horses. The sky was just turning the steel-grey of pre-dawn and the air was frigid. Their breath made puffs of white in the air. Denil was surprised that Jak could stand so still, apparently ignoring the cold, when he was more than half-frozen already.

It had been almost midnight by the time they settled to sleep and Denil felt as though he had barely closed his eyes when Jak shook him awake. Finding provisions, clothes and other supplies for the journey had taken most of the afternoon and evening. It had been so long since Denil last travelled beyond Eto that even his first aid kit had needed replacing. His packs and saddle had long since disappeared from their storage room and mice had chewed a hole through his blanket roll. Everything had to be replaced from the university stores, which was why Denil was now wearing an oiled cloak a size too large. The fur coat he wore beneath the cloak cut out some of the chill but standing around a snowy courtyard was allowing the cold to seep through his boots to freeze his feet.

Jak finally moved to clap his gloved hands together. "You're sure the weather is going to stay stable?"

There was a faint itch at the back of Denil's mind that said a storm was a few days away but that was all. "Yes, we're fine for now."

"Mithra, it's cold," Jak grumbled.

"It's a northern wind bringing the weather," Denil said.

Jak shot him a quick look before returning to watching the stable. "So you keep saying."

Denil began stamping his feet, trying to get some feeling back in his toes.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Jak asked without looking at him.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"He's tougher than he looks."

They both spun to face the newcomer, Denil taking a small gasp of surprise as he moved.

It was as though he was seeing Sai'em for the first time all over again. His comfortable, familiar old friend had disappeared and been replaced with a stranger who bore only a faint resemblance to her. The elf sat confidently astride a tall white horse. She was dressed all in white, with only a little silver and blue embroidery, and the horse's tack matched her clothing. A quiver of arrows was strapped to her back over a long white cloak, which was thrust back so that Denil could glimpse the hilt of a sword at her waist. Sai'em's boots were made of soft white leather with silver buckles at the knee and silver knife-hilts peaking out of the boot-tops. Her coat and breeches were cut in the elfish fashion, also pure white, and for the first time Denil felt slightly grubby and faded in her presence. A fierce light shone in Sai'em's eyes.

"I'm going with you," she stated.

Jak moved forward a step. "No, you're not."

"I can go with you or I can follow you, but I _am_ going," Sai'em replied firmly.

"No, you're not," Jak repeated.

"Do you think that you can out-run an ice elf on snow?" Sai'em asked.

"She has a point," Denil said quietly.

"I don't even need to follow you to Genta," Sai'em said. "I can get there faster. You'd be holding me back."

"Did you tell her where we're going?" Jak asked.

"He didn't have to," Sai'em said. "When Denil of Errith starts requisitioning winter-travel gear, people talk. I just put you and that together and came up with wizards."

"I'll bring him back," Jak promised.

"It's not that I don't trust you to try, Commander, but I don't trust the wizards to let you."

"I can take care of myself," Denil protested. "I've been doing it for a long time and I'm quite good at it."

He was ignored.

"I give you my word that I won't let the wizards harm him," Jak said.

"I trust your word," Sai'em replied, "but I don't trust wizards. I'm going with you whether you like it not."

"I choose not," Jak said grumpily.

The two combatants glared at each other, neither willing to give an inch. Denil wanted to intervene, to offer a compromise so that his two friends would stop arguing, but there was no compromise to offer. Eventually, the standoff was broken by the arrival of the grooms with Jak and Denil's horses.

"I want it understood that I'm in charge," Jak said as he turned away to fasten his bags to the packhorse. "I say when we go and where we go. You're just along for the ride."

"Yes, sir," Sai'em said with a faint smile.

Jak eyed her suspiciously. Denil bent his head to check the saddle of his horse so Jak could not see his smile. He mounted smoothly, the movement coming easily despite the years since he last rode a horse, and patted the chestnut mare's neck. Jak had already attached the packhorse's leading rein to his own saddle before mounting fluidly.

"We'll take Green Lane to the North Road," Jak said. "I want to reach the cross-roads by dark."

The town of Eto was just beginning to stir as the small group rode through, their horses' hooves muffled in a thick layer of snow. There were a few tracks from early risers but most of the townspeople were using the snow as an excuse to stay home until ploughs had been along to the clear the main throughways. Green Lane was an ancient road connecting the North Road to the Sunhelm Road and the town had been built around it. The histories did not show whether the university or the town came first, but Denil had done some digging in the archives a few years ago and he suspected that the town had begun as an inn and a couple of crafter's cottages not long after the first buildings of the university had been constructed.

Jak led them with Denil behind and Sai'em bringing up the rear. In the shelter of the town, the wind was low and gusty but as soon as they passed the last building it blew straight over the snowy fields unrelentingly. Denil huddled in his saddle and tried to think warm thoughts.

At around noon the road curved around some low hills. The small change in direction meant that Jak provided a slight windbreak for Denil, but his face and feet were already so numb that it didn't make much difference overall. The steadily blowing wind meant that the layer of snow on the road was thinner than it had been in the town but the horses were tiring and Jak made them dismount so they could be rested and fed. Denil almost fell out of his saddle and it took several minutes of slowly walking around to restore some feeling to his feet and reduce the stiffness in his legs. Jak also walked stiffly for a couple of minutes so Denil comforted himself with the thought that he wasn't doing too badly after all. The only one not affected by the cold was Sai'em; she dismounted smoothly and took care of the horses while her more cold-susceptible companions tried to warm up. Even her horse seemed happier in the cold than the others. The only effect of the cold that Sai'em was showing was a slight hint of pink in her normally pale cheeks.

After a few minutes, Jak rummaged in one of the packs and produced some meat rolls and a flask of water. Denil took a couple of the rolls and consumed them hungrily without even bothering to remove his gloves. The cold lunch was not as satisfying as a hot meal would have been, but a fire was impossible in the windswept land.

"Are you going to be alright to go on?" Jak asked when he finished his lunch.

Denil looked around the deserted landscape. "Where would I go if I wasn't?"

"Good point," Jak said with a small grin.

The look in his eyes warmed Denil more than anything else had so far that day. It was a gentle look full of quiet admiration. Denil guessed that Jak had not been expecting a scholar to cope with the journey without complaining. That thought gave him enough energy to climb into the saddle and nudge the mare into a walk. Denil decided not to examine the reasons why he wanted this man to see him in a good light.

The afternoon was little different to the morning. They rode in silence and when the road came around the low hills the icy wind blew straight at Denil again without a break. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and pulled the hood low. Nothing really stopped the wind gusting down his neck and across his ears but he could at least try to be less uncomfortable.

Dusk was falling by the time they reached the crossroads with the North Road. Denil straightened slightly when he saw lights twinkling in the distance and silently willed Jak to call a halt there. He was willing to do almost anything for a few minutes by a warm fire.

The lights turned out to be a small village at the crossroads. It wasn't much more than a couple of inns and a few cottages but all that Denil really cared about at that point was the warm firelight shining through the windows. For a moment Jak looked as though he was going to ride straight past. Then he raised his head and focused on the garishly painted sign that proclaimed one of the inns as 'The Wandering Woman'.

"We won't make it to the next town before dark," he announced.

"I don't think the horses will go much further tonight," Sai'em agreed politely.

Denil simply tugged on his reins and directed his mare into the inn's courtyard.

* * *

A blast of warm air hit Jak's face as soon as he opened the inn's door. A pair of grooms had taken charge of their horses so all they had to do was take their packs inside and try to secure some rooms.

'Try' would be the important word, Jak reflected as he took in the busy common room. He felt his companions crowd through the door behind him and turned in time to catch the look of blissful relief on Denil's face as the warmth surrounded him. For a moment, Jak's breath caught in his throat before he forced himself to turn back to the common room.

There did not seem to be a free table in the place. A large group of Ventaxian merchants sat around a table in one corner, their bright golden hair standing out against the darker heads around them. Jak spotted at least five nationalities in his quick inspection of the room, including two Bedaani tribesmen from the far south. The unusually cold weather seemed to have caught everyone by surprise. The Bedaani were sitting so close to the roaring fire at one end of the room that they were in danger of singeing their boots.

His rapid scan of the room convinced Jak that this would be a quiet inn with no trouble. A group of local farmers were playing dice with some foreign traders in the corner, which was always a good sign. Assessing a room in a quick glance was a useful habit from his soldiering days and he could usually judge the mood of a room within half a minute of stepping inside. Nodding his satisfaction with the place, Jak wove his way through the tables to the counter with Denil and Sai'em following.

The innkeeper looked up from wiping down the bar as Jak approached. He was a tall man with a pronounced paunch and a friendly smile. His jacket was cut in the local style with a large, clean white apron tied over it.

"What can I get you?" the innkeeper asked, leaning on his bar.

"Rooms for the night and hot food," Jak said.

The innkeeper frowned uncertainly. "There isn't much left. This weather caught a lot of folk unawares. 'The Bushel' had to send over a party on account of having nowhere to put anyone."

"We'll take whatever you've got as long as it's got a roof and walls," Jak said with what he hoped looked like a friendly smile.

"I can put the lady in with the other lady traveller," the innkeeper said with an anxious glance at Sai'em. "You lads can share the last room. It's not much, but it's that or the stable."

Jak didn't even have to look at Denil to know that the man would take anything warm and dry. "We'll take them."

The innkeeper sighed his relief. "That'll be two silvers for the rooms. Stabling is three coppers for each horse. Food's a penny a plate. Got plenty of food, at least."

Jak shrugged and counted out the money. There was no sense in haggling when the innkeeper could easily throw them out and fill their rooms with other stranded travellers. The innkeeper tucked the coins away and shouted for one of the serving girls to take 'the Lady Sai'em' to her room while he accompanied the men. He wheezed as he led them up several staircases and down a long corridor and didn't offer to carry any of the packs. Denil followed with no complaints and Jak was struck again by the quietly determined strength that the scholar was showing. He had expected him to be complaining bitterly about the cold, the long day and the cramped accommodation. Any of the wizards would have been by now. In fact, most of the wizards would have treated Jak as little more than a glorified bag-boy, never mind the fact that he headed the Watch that guarded their city and allowed them to walk the streets at night without fear.

"This is it," the innkeeper announced at the end of the corridor, pushing a door open.

Jak squeezed past, followed by Denil. It really was as small as the innkeeper had promised. There was enough space for a bed and a washstand, with barely enough left over to move in. The only light came from a small window and a couple of oil lamps suspended from the ceiling. Jak heard the door click behind him and guessed that the innkeeper was going back to his common room as fast as he could scurry, before either he or Denil confronted him about the lodgings. He shrugged and edged around the bed to dump his packs on the floor next to the narrow washstand. The water in the basin was ice-cold but he felt cleaner when he had splashed some on his face and dried off on the small towel hanging from a hook on the side of the stand. He turned back to the bed and watched Denil rummage in his packs for a couple of minutes, checking that his books had survived the day's journey.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

Denil paused and looked up. "Yes, thank you. It's just been a while since I did any travelling. I usually travelled during the summer then."

"You did fine today," Jak said, suddenly needing to let Denil know how impressed he was but unable to put it into words properly.

It must have been the right thing to say because Denil's eyes lit up and a hint of a smile crossed his face. "Thank you. I was afraid that I was slowing you down."

"No, no, you did better than I'd expected."

Denil started to go back to his pack but he paused and a small frown appeared. "What did you plan to do if I had said no?"

For a moment Jak gaped at him. The thought had crossed his mind a couple of times during the journey to Eto but he had always dismissed it before it could take hold. "I honestly don't know. I'd probably have hung around until you said yes. You're my last hope of finding my son."

"Why are you so sure that this book holds the key?" Denil asked curiously. "The picture on the front could mean anything."

Jak shrugged. "I don't know. I can't explain it. I just can't believe that there isn't a connection between that book and the things that took Charry."

The explanation, imperfect as it was, seemed to satisfy Denil and he made a last check of his books before refastening the packs, putting them on the floor and carefully sliding them under the bed. Jak nudged his packs under with the toe of his boot, ran a hand through his hair to straighten it and moved to the door.

"Hungry?" he asked.

Denil nodded with a slightly surprised expression. "Actually, I am."

"Then I propose that we get some food out of the profiteering publican downstairs before we get some sleep."

Denil nodded. "That sounds like a plan."

* * *

Denil had announced that he couldn't sleep without a hot bath so he had gone in search of the inn's bath-house, which gave Jak some time alone to change and work out what he was going to do. Jak quickly exchanged his leather breeches for softer woollen ones and left his shirt on. Denil was an attractive man, getting more attractive as Jak got to know him better, and despite his fear for his son, Jak couldn't help noticing that. Mixing sex and work was a dangerous combination, something that Jak had seen too often in his career. When affairs end, someone always gets hurt and Jak was not going to risk his son's future for a roll in the sack. The safest option would be to ignore any attraction and keep away from temptation. Sharing a bed wouldn't make that easy, but Jak hoped that if he stayed dressed and Denil went to sleep as soon as they turned out the lanterns, it should be possible.

A faint scuffing noise alerted Jak to Denil's approach and a moment later the door opened to admit him, still flushed from his bath with his shirt half unlaced and the ends of his hair curling damply on his forehead. Jak's mouth went dry and it took a lot of effort to tear his eyes away and casually slide into the bed. He rolled onto his side, facing the wall, and closed his eyes.

"Can you put out the lamps when you're done?" he asked, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders.

He heard Denil moving around the room for a few minutes before it went dark. Then the bed dipped and Jak felt Denil climb in. A minute later he felt Denil turn over, and a couple of minutes after that Denil shifted again. Jak endured a few more minutes of Denil's restless shifting before giving in and rolling over to face him.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Denil rolled over to face Jak, punching his pillow a couple of times before tucking it under his head. "Am I keeping you awake?"

"No," Jak lied. "What's wrong?"

In the faint moonlight shining through the room's only window Jak could just make out Denil's rueful smile. "I don't know. I almost fell asleep in the bath but now I'm wide awake."

"Sometimes it's like that on the first day of a journey. What do you normally do when you can't sleep?"

"Usually I work until I fall asleep so it isn't a big problem."

Jak raised an eyebrow. "Really? I would never have guessed."

He allowed a small grin to escape to let Denil know that he was joking and a matching grin appeared on Denil's face. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"What do you usually do?" Denil asked.

"I'm normally so exhausted at the end of a day that it's hard work to stay awake long enough to put Charry to bed."

"Really?"

"Paperwork is a lot more tiring than I ever appreciated when I was out in the field and ninety percent of my job now is sitting behind a desk reading and writing reports. I have dreams about putting the whole lot in the Watch house courtyard and lighting a bonfire."

Denil stifled a chuckle. "I can't imagine your superiors being too happy about that."

"No, I don't suppose they would be." Jak grinned wickedly. "But it would be fun."

"Yeah."

Jak knew that carrying on this conversation in a bed was dangerous, but something inside made him ignore that and say, "Tell me about yourself. I'm sharing a bed with you so I should know something."

"There's not much to tell," Denil said with a small shrug. "I'm sure you know more about me than I know about you."

"Indulge me."

"What do you want to know?"

Jak caught himself just as he was about to reply "everything". Keeping this safe wouldn't be easy if his mouth ran away and started flirting with the man. Instead he said, "I'll start with something simple. Why did you stop travelling?"

"Huh?"

"Earlier you mentioned that you weren't used to travelling anymore, implying that you once travelled a lot. Why did you stop?"

Denil's eyes clouded and Jak cursed inwardly as he realised that his question had put that sad expression on his face.

"My wife died," Denil said quietly.

"Denil, I'm so sorry," Jak said, almost reaching out to touch Denil's face but stopping himself just in time. "If I'd known-"

"It's alright, there was no way you could have known," Denil cut in. "It was nearly five years ago."

"If you'd rather not talk about it, I understand."

"No, it's fine," Denil said thoughtfully. "It doesn't hurt as much as it used to."

"It never stops hurting, though, does it?"

"But it does get easier." Denil smiled slightly. "Sai'em told me that time heals all wounds and I guess she's right."

A sudden thought occurred to Jak. "Are you and Sai'em...uh...involved?"

Denil's eyebrows shot up and he laughed, the sad expression replaced by surprised amusement. "Me and Sai'em? We're good friends but that's all we'll ever be. Elves and humans are too different."

"Sai'em is half-human," Jak pointed out.

Denil shrugged. "Sometimes a male elf has an affair with a human female, but never the other way around and it never lasts long."

"I don't usually spend time thinking about the mating habits of elves," Jak said defensively.

"I suppose it doesn't often come up in Genta."

"No, it doesn't." Jak paused while he tried to work out how to steer the conversation somewhere safer.

"I think Sharra would have liked you," Denil said. "She was always trying to get me to laugh at myself. Apparently I can sometimes be too serious."

"She sounds like a wise woman."

"Oh, she was. We met when we were fifteen but she insisted that we wait until we finished our apprenticeships before we got married. That's how I met Sai'em."

"Oh?" Jak asked, trying to see the connection and failing.

"Sharra was Sai'em's student. They'd hole themselves up in her workshop for days until I dragged them downstairs to spend time in the real world."

"You weren't such a workaholic back then?"

"No, they were just worse than me. Sai'em still is."

"Did Sharra travel with you?"

Denil shook his head. "She liked having some peace and quiet while I was away. I'd go and work on excavations or visit other libraries and she'd spend the summer working on Sai'em's experiments. At the end of the summer I'd come home and drag her out of the workshop. Sometimes it was difficult to keep in contact because of our work, even when we were both in Eto, but somehow we managed it."

"If something's worth working for, you find a way," Jak said, enjoying the gentle expression in Denil's eyes far too much for his continued sanity.

"I came home one summer and Sharra had this cough. We'd been married for ten years but she never really seemed to get sick until then. She'd always been so strong," Denil said with a faraway look, as though this was something he had often puzzled over. "The cough got worse and she got quite sick over the winter. Sai'em and the healers did what they could but they said there was something wrong with her lungs that they couldn't fix. Sharra seemed to get better when spring came but the cough never really went away so I stayed home that summer. When winter came, Sharra got sick again but that time she was weaker and she died just after Midwinter. I couldn't go travelling that summer and after that it just became habit to stay at the university."

"Until now."

Denil's eyes focused on Jak's face intently. "Yes, until now."

"Why are you here?"

"Because you need me and I've never been able to turn down a challenge."

The way that Denil's eyes shifted told Jak that the other man wasn't telling the whole truth but he decided to let it rest for now. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until I've translated that book," Denil said.

"If you translate that book, I'll be thanking you for the rest of my life."

"There might not be anything useful in it."

"I'm sure there is." Jak smiled and changed the subject. "Tell me about your work."

"My work?"

He shrugged. "I figure one of us has to get some sleep tonight. Tell me what you do and why you do it."

"Alright, you asked for it. I work on languages, translating what I can and working out languages I haven't seen before."

"Why?"

"The only way to know why the world is the way it is, is to look at how it got that way. That means studying what happened in the past as far back as we can. A lot of that information is in books and inscriptions written in languages nobody can read anymore." Denil paused to yawn. "If I can translate that and gather the information then we can find out why the world is shaped and operated the way it is today. We have customs and ideas that date back thousands of years - hasn't that ever intrigued you?"

"Not really. Go on - I'm getting sleepy now."

Denil kicked Jak lightly with his bare foot. "Gilder is a prefect example. Over twenty-five centuries ago it was the heartland of an empire that ruled half the ancient lands. Then it suddenly went through a massive collapse and nobody has been able to successfully claim the land since. If I could find out more information about its rise and collapse, maybe I could work out why it happened and future civilisations won't make the same mistake."

Denil broke off to yawn again and Jak copied him. Despite his enthusiasm, Denil was growing visibly sleepy and his soft voice was encouraging Jak to do the same. He carried on talking about ancient civilisations and lands for a while but Jak had trouble following it. The breaks to yawn came more frequently until eventually he trailed off completely. Jak was at the edge of sleep then and Denil's sleepy goodnight was all it took to push him over into exhausted slumber.

* * *

Once again felt as though he had barely closed his eyes when Denil was shaken awake. He batted groggily at the hand on his shoulder and was rewarded with a pained exclamation and then Jak's voice saying, "Would you quit hitting me?"

Denil shot up and immediately hit his head on something hard, making him fall back to the bed with a bounce. He rubbed at the bruised spot and opened his eyes to see Jak standing over him, rubbing his jaw and wincing.

"Do you always attack anyone who wakes you up?" Jak asked.

"Uh, no?" Denil said uncertainly, struggling to process the question through his sleep-fogged mind.

"You could have fooled me," Jak muttered. "We're leaving in half an hour."

"Fine," Denil said as he eyes drifted shut again.

A pillow landed on his face and he threw it off to glare up at Jak. The other man looked at him critically.

"I'll get you some breakfast," he said before walking out and leaving Denil in peace.

Denil almost fell asleep again but he forced himself to sit up and rub his gritty eyes. The small window showed a patch of sky with a few stars still twinkling but he had no doubt that dawn was close. Denil shivered in the chill of the early morning. The lack of a fireplace had made little difference last night, but now he could feel the clammy cold of the winter's morning and it took all the will power he possessed to throw back the blankets and get out of bed instead of burrowing in and going back to sleep. By the time Jak returned with the promised breakfast Denil had washed in icy water, pulled on a clean shirt and changed into leather breeches. He was tugging on his boots when Jak entered, muttering under his breath about skinflint innkeepers.

"Here," Jak said, holding out a thick sandwich and balancing a tray on his other hand.

Denil raised an eyebrow. "Breakfast?"

"We're lucky to get this much," Jak said irritably. "Damn innkeeper doesn't do food before dawn. He kicked the groom out of bed so our horses should be ready by the time we finish."

Denil accepted the sandwich without further argument and took a large bite, tasting tangy cheese and something else that he couldn't quite place.

"It's some kind of flavoured butter he makes," Jak said through a mouthful of his own sandwich. "Tea?"

Denil accepted a mug of steaming tea and they ate and drank in silence. He winced when he saw that a bruise was already starting to show on Jak's jaw.

"I'm sorry about the...uh," he gestured to his chin, "you know."

Jak drained the last of his tea. "Don't worry about it - I can barely feel it. You're not a morning person, are you?"

Denil put his mug on the tray that Jak had carried breakfast in on. "No, I'm not."

"There's a surprise."

Through the window, Denil could see the sky start to turn grey as the last star winked out and he stifled a sigh at the thought of another day in the cold. Jak was checking his packs so Denil did the same before fastening them and picking up his coat. He was beginning to pull it on when Jak's hands over his stopped him. He looked up, startled at the sudden warmth and tingle that began to run down his arms. Jak snatched his hands away and stepped back.

"Sorry," he said, avoiding Denil's eyes.

"What was that for?"

"You're doing it wrong."

"I've been putting coats on for a long time - how exactly am I doing it wrong?"

"If you turn it the other way out, it will keep more warmth in. The fur needs to be on the inside."

"Oh." Denil shrugged out of the coat, turned it out and pulled it on again. "Like this?"

"Yeah." Jak pulled his own coat on and fastened his oil cloak at his neck before holding up a belt. "If you put a belt over your cloak, you'll stay drier and warmer too."

Denil tried to work out how Jak managed to belt the cloak while leaving his arms free but each time he tried it, either the cloak or the belt escaped from his grip.

"Let me," Jak said, taking the belt from him.

Denil closed his eyes and held his breath as Jak's arms briefly encircled him. When he opened his eyes, he could see the top of Jak's silver hair as the man stooped slightly to fasten the belt. Unexpected warmth crept up Denil's cheeks and his fingers suddenly itched to test the softness of Jak's hair.

Jak straightened and stepped away, an odd look in his eyes that was quickly masked. "All done."

Denil had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Thank you."

"Ready to go?" Jak asked as he put on his sword belt and made sure that the weapon was balanced properly on his hip.

"I'm ready," Denil confirmed.

He picked up his packs and followed Jak downstairs and through the empty common room. As promised, the horses were saddled and ready in the courtyard with a sullen-eyed groom who glared at them before stalking off. It was just as cold as it had been yesterday and Denil hoped that Jak was right about the coat and cloak providing more warmth. His hands and feet would probably still be numb by the end of the day but maybe the bone-deep chill wouldn't be as bad. The packhorse waited patiently while Denil fastened his pack of books on and Jak added his packs. Denil took pity on the beast and carried his pack of clothes himself, adjusting the straps until it felt comfortable on his shoulders.

Sai'em came out of the inn as he was checking the tightness of the saddle's girth. Her tall white horse had stood unmoving to one side, not even shuffling her feet. Sai'em quickly and efficiently checked over the tack and secured her saddlebags before gathering the reins in one hand. When she looked over towards Jak, a puzzled frown appeared on her face and she released the horse with a quiet command and walked over to Denil.

"Is everything alright?" she asked in a low voice.

Denil paused with a hand on his saddle pommel and a foot in the stirrup. "Yes. Why?"

"He didn't do anything inappropriate, did he?" Sai'em asked, concern shining in her blue eyes as she gestured to Jak.

"Of course not," Denil said indignantly. "Why would you - oh, that." The bruise on Jak's jaw was now an impressive shade of purple. "Just a small accident."

"Uh-huh." She did not sound convinced. "You'd tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would." Denil quickly changed the subject. "Did you sleep well?"

Sai'em grimaced. "My roommate snored like a pig. You?"

"Jak doesn't snore or hog the covers. He's very considerate."

"Hmm."

Sai'em still looked doubtful but she said no more and Denil was distracted because his horse chose that moment to sidestep, forcing him to hop after it or fall in the snow. He regained his balance and pulled himself into the saddle before the mare could move again.

"Denil," Sai'em called and he looked down at her. "I have something for you. I was going to give it to you yesterday but your Jak argued with me and I forgot."

She held out what looked like a foot long wooden pole and Denil took it from her. The wood was so dark it was almost black and elf-runes had been carved into it.

Jak, also mounted, moved closer to watch curiously. "What is it?"

Denil recognised it and he pressed a slight indentation in the centre. The pole immediately expanded into a staff and he grinned as he tested the balance. "It's _nimoriel_ wood."

"What?"

He looked up and met Jak's curious eyes. " _Nimoriel_ wood. The wood elves grow it. It's stronger than steel but not much heavier that oak. They use it to make fighting-staves and special carvings. It's very rare - Sai'em, are you sure you want me to have this?"

The elf shrugged. "I designed it for you just before...but then you stopped travelling so there was no reason to give it to you."

Jak held out a hand and Denil passed the staff to him. "Thank you, Sai'em."

"You're welcome."

Jak was carefully examining the staff, tracing his finger over the runes and the barely visible ridges where it expanded and contracted. "How does it work?"

"I combined mechanics and magic," Sai'em said, her eyes sparkling. "The hollow sections of wood fit tightly inside each other but some of their mass is temporarily shifted somewhere else - I'm not completely sure where - until the trigger is pressed and-"

"Ah!" Jak said, holding up a hand. "Mechanics and magic, that's all I need to know. Thank you."

Sai'em shrugged and moved back to her horse, talking to her softly in Elvish. Denil couldn't hide a smile at her muttered comments about Jak's attention span. He caught Jak's suspicious glance out of the corner of his eye and tried without success to force the smile off his face. Jak handed the staff back and Denil pressed the trigger to collapse it so that he could tuck it into his pack.

"Can you use that thing?" Jak asked.

"I can defend myself," Denil replied.

"Good." Jak turned his horse towards the courtyard gates. "Let's move out."

* * *

The junction of Green Lane with the North Road was at the centre of the village. Jak wasted no time in turning them west along the North Road and the difference between the two roads was immediately obvious. The surface of the North Road was an odd, opalescent pale blue that looked as though it should be slippery but actually had a better grip that the icy stone of Green Lane. The strange surface was completely free of snow and ice and Denil knew from his travels years ago that new snow would melt from it as soon as it fell. The Sunhelm Road in the south was made of the same substance. Both roads dated back to ancient times and nobody had the skill anymore to duplicate them. The roads never chipped or crumbled and they were wide enough for five men to ride abreast. They were marked on the oldest maps that Denil owned and they had already been old when those were drawn.

Sai'em had once remarked that the material the ancient roads were made from was similar to the substance her people used to build their cities in the ice-bound north but she had refused to elaborate further. In fact, despite the years he had known her, Denil knew almost nothing about elves. There were plenty of tales circulating about them, most of them blatantly false or vastly expanded scraps of truth, but Sai'em refused to tell him anything about her people. He didn't even know how old she was. She hadn't changed at all in the years he had known her and she had been at the university for almost twenty years before that. Beyond her name and the fact of her mixed heritage, almost nothing of her history before she appeared at the university was known.

There were more villages and small towns along the North Road than there had been on Green Lane and the countryside did not look as deserted. The snow-covered fields had footprints criss-crossing them, human and animal, and sometimes in the distance Denil could see dark dots moving against the whiteness in numbers large enough to suggest herds of cattle or sheep. They met few travellers on the road apart from the occasional merchant either brave or desperate enough to risk travelling during winter. By midmorning Denil had regained enough of his riding confidence to pull a book out of his pack and read it as he rode, controlling the horse with gestures so familiar they were ingrained. The time passed more swiftly when his mind was occupied and even the cold seem to bite less harshly. When they stopped to eat lunch and rest the horses, Jak just looked at the book in Denil's hand and grinned sardonically.

As the afternoon wore on it became harder to ignore the cold but Denil concentrated hard on his book and tried to shut out his surroundings. The book was written in Sirri, a language that had been dead for nearly five centuries, and required a lot of concentration in order to untangle the complex system of verbs and determinatives and make any sense of the words. The sun gradually sank towards the horizon and the light became dimmer, until Denil was holding the book almost at his nose to see the words.

"You'll ruin your eyes doing that."

He slowly lowered his book and glanced sideways. Jak was riding alongside him instead of ahead as he had all day.

"That's a myth, you know," Denil said.

"What, there's been a massive survey?" Jak asked.

"No, but bad eyesight is rarely connected to reading in poor light."

"So why are most scholars short-sighted?"

"Has it occurred to you that poor sight makes it difficult to go out fighting for a living so we tend to choose more sedentary pursuits?"

"It's occurred to me that you argue a lot."

Denil opened his mouth to protest and quickly closed it.

"See? You were going to argue right there," Jak gloated.

"You are obnoxious. Did you have a real question or are you just being annoying?"

"No question, I just wanted to talk to someone and I was concerned that you'd actually bruise your nose on that book."

Denil closed the book and tucked it into a coat pocket. It really was getting too dark to read. He flexed his gloved hands slowly, taking care not to drop the reins, and winced as his cold joints protested. He couldn't feel his nose and ears but now that his concentration had been broken, he could feel how cold his feet were. Jak's trick with the coat seemed to have worked, though, because he wasn't as bone-deep frozen as he had been yesterday, although he ached fiercely from the long day in the saddle.

"We'll stop in the next village if their inn has room," Jak said as though he sensed Denil's thoughts.

"And if they don't have room?"

"They'll have room," Jak said grimly. "We aren't kitted out for camping in this weather."

"Try not to hurt anyone," Denil said, wondering how hard he would really protest if Jak started threatening the innkeeper with bodily harm if he didn't provide a room.

Jak grinned wolfishly. "I'll try. How's the weather coming along?"

Denil closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate. "There's something moving down from the north but it won't hit for a couple of days."

"Good. You're a useful guy to have around."

Jak's words warmed Denil better than his fur coat and he didn't bother to work out why.

The next village was only a couple of miles down the road and it had a large inn with a common room as busy as the 'Wandering Woman' had been. Denil hung back while Jak negotiated with the innkeeper for rooms. This innkeeper was a blonde version of yesterday's and he kept glancing at Sai'em nervously, his gaze lingering on her slightly pointed ears. When he eventually 'found' a couple of empty rooms, Denil was sure that it was Sai'em's presence that had closed the deal rather than Jak's rather pointed fingering of his sword hilt.

* * *

This time the room that Denil and Jak were given was larger, with a small fireplace and a writing desk in addition to a washstand and blanket box. The straw mattress promised to be uncomfortable but it was a surface to sleep on and that was all Denil cared about. After supper he went in search of the innkeeper and the man reluctantly assigned a serving girl to heat water for a bath. A small room off the kitchen served as a bathing room and, although the tub wasn't large, the hot water soaked away some of the aches. Denil began to appreciate Sai'em's work to give the university running hot and cold water when it took several trips with buckets to get the bath filled. He helped the maid empty the tub when he was dried and dressed and left her heating water for a second tub.

Jak was sitting on the bed propped against the headboard, darning a sock when Denil returned to their room, a sight that made him stop and blink for a moment before he could continue to his pack and put away his soap and dirty socks.

"Good bath?" Jak asked, not looking up from his darning.

"Yes, thank you," Denil said. "The girl is drawing up one for you."

"Is that a hint?"

Denil looked up uncertainly. "Ah, no. Just-"

"Relax, I was joking. A bath sounds good right now." Jak tied off his wool and stood up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Denil decided to leave his feet bare rather than hunt for clean socks and concentrated on slowly finding a clean shirt. He relaxed when the click of the bedroom door announced Jak's departure. For some reason he felt uncomfortable about changing in front of the man, but he decided to put it down to only having known Jak for a few days. He changed into a clean shirt and hesitated for a moment before switching his leather pants for woollen ones. Then, with one ear listening for Jak's return, he pulled out his journal and pen, sat down at the writing desk and began trying to record the last two days. Denil was reading over what he had written when he heard footsteps in the corridor and quickly closed the journal and put his pen and ink back into their box. He hurriedly put them back into his pack and straightened up as Jak entered the room and shut the door with his shirt over his arm. Denil didn't consider himself to be prudish so he couldn't understand why the sight of Jak's bare chest sent heat rushing to his face.

"I thought you'd be asleep already," Jak said as he carefully folded his shirt.

Denil sat down one the edge of the bed, trying not to stare at Jak and failing. "I wasn't tired."

"You're a night owl." Jak pulled out a clean shirt and pulled it on over his head. "It's what makes you so bad-tempered in the morning."

Denil was surprised to feel disappointed as the shirt covered Jak's torso. It was a nice chest, lean and lightly muscled without a hint of flab, despite Jak's claims to be desk-bound. He wondered what the light covering of hair would feel like against his fingers and his eyes were drawn to where the hair narrowed and disappeared into the waistband of Jak's breeches before it, too, was covered. Then he had to wonder where the sudden interest in another man's chest hair came from. Sharra had found his own smooth chest amusing but he had never felt the need to explore another man's before. Maybe delayed inadequacy was kicking in? That thought was immediately dismissed because this interest in Jak's body had nothing to do with comparisons in that way.

"Denil?"

He jumped as Jak called his name sharply and he realised that Jak had been trying to get his attention for a while.

"Denil? Are you alright?" Jak asked, concern in his eyes.

The collar of Jak's shirt hadn't been laced completely so a tuft of greying hair was visible poking out of the top. Denil jerked his eyes away and prayed that the heat in his face was not a blush.

"Denil?"

"I'm fine," Denil lied. "We should probably h-...uh, get some sleep."

Jak frowned at him but didn't purse it and Denil breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He stood and pulled back the blankets with more force than was really necessary so he had to shake them to restore some material to Jak's side of the bed. Without looking at Jak, he climbed in and lay down facing the wall. Denil closed his eyes and a minute later the room darkened and he felt Jak get into the bed beside him.

After a few minutes Jak's voice floated out of the darkness. "I know you're not asleep."

Denil opened his eyes. He had been hoping that Jak would take the hint and at least pretend to sleep if he wasn't tired, but apparently Jak didn't take hints well. The bed was as uncomfortable as it had promised to be and Denil had straw prickling his skin and a lumpy pillow. It would take a lot to be able to sleep through that.

He reluctantly rolled over and spent a while trying to find a comfortable position with no straw digging into his skin. Eventually he conceded defeat and lay still. He was surprised to meet Jak's eyes only a few inches away and resisted the immediate instinct to scoot back. Low flames still danced in the hearth, providing just enough flickering light to see Jak's eyes but leaving enough shadow to make Denil unsure of his expression.

"Can't sleep?" Jak asked.

"It would be easier if this bed was more comfortable," Denil admitted.

Jak lifted his head, punched his pillow and lay down again. "I know what you mean. I swear this pillow has rocks in it."

"Straw was never designed to be a mattress filling."

"It has a certain rustic charm," Jak said, a shadow at the corner of his mouth deepening in what Denil now recognised was a habitual half-smile to imply gentle sarcasm. "You're sure we aren't going to get trapped here by the weather?"

"I'm sure."

"Good. I don't suppose there's a way to schedule any storms so that we're at decent inns when they hit?"

"Sorry. Sai'em says that it takes a lot of energy to change weather patterns and it's nearly impossible to make specific changes."

"'Nearly?' Implying that it's not completely impossible?"

"I think it would probably kill a person before they actually achieved their intended goal."

"Ouch."

Denil couldn't think of anything else to say about weather-magic from his limited understanding of it but he didn't want the conversation to end yet. "I barely know anything about you. Tell me something interesting."

"Like?"

"I don't know - pick something."

"Put me on the spot, why don't you?" Jak grumbled.

"Alright, if it's easier - tell me about your son."

Jak's eyes immediately lit up and Denil's breath caught in his throat for a moment.

"Charry's a great kid," Jak said, his voice filled with pride. "He's only nine but he's already so smart. I got him enrolled in one of the guild schools a couple of years ago and his teachers say that he could easily get into one of the universities when he's older. Right now he's more worried about playing ball with his friends but he doesn't argue when he's told to do his homework first." Jak's voice lowered and became confiding. "He doesn't know that I know, but he sneaks books into his bed and reads after lights-out. Not just adventure stuff, either. He reads history and travel stories by some guy who's been all over and published his journals."

"Peris Goy?"

"Yeah, that's him. Charry thinks he's being so sneaky, fooling his old dad into letting him go to bed early so he can read."

"If you make something illicit, that only makes someone want it more," Denil said thoughtfully.

Jak nodded. "That's right. Charry's allowed to read for a few minutes after supper, just long enough to get into it but not long enough to get bored, and then he's meant to go to bed so he hides his book under his shirt and sneaks it up."

Denil listened to Jak's stories of a happy boy growing up with a loving parent, going on fishing trips and smashing windows with over-enthusiastic ball games, and smiled wistfully. Jak sounded like a wonderful father and Charry sounded like a great kid. Denil wished that he could meet the boy and then sternly reminded himself that he would if he did his job properly.

Eventually, the long day caught up with him despite the uncomfortable bed and Denil's eyes drifted shut. He tried to concentrate on Jak's voice but sleep was too seductive and he was carried away into dreams of playing catch with a sunny-faced boy and his handsome father.

* * *

Denil was woken by a pillow landing on his face. He shoved it aside and reluctantly forced his eyes open to stare blearily up at Jak, who was picking up two steaming mugs from the desk.

"Morning," Jak said, grinning. "Tea?"

The scent of the bitter herbs made Denil's nose twitch so he sat up and held out a hand. Jak gave him a mug and pulled out the spindly chair from the writing desk to sit on while he drank his own tea. Denil took several careful sips of the scalding liquid and wished he had some honey to take the edge off the bitter brew.

"We're leaving in a few minutes," Jak said, draining his mug with a grimace. "If you hurry, the innkeeper is making breakfast."

Denil waited until Jak left the room with his packs before throwing back the blankets and leaving the bed. The fire had burnt out during the night so the room was chilly and Denil hurriedly dressed for the day's travel. He made a quick check of his packs to be sure that his books were stowed safely and that nothing had been left behind before making his way to the inn's common room. Breakfast turned out to be a plate of hot sausages, thick slabs of bread and more bitter tea. Sai'em and Jak were nowhere to be seen so he put some sausages between a couple of slices of bread and ate as he walked to the stables.

The sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon, signalling dawn's fast approach. Denil's breath was a white stream in the icy air but the itch at the back of his mind said that the storms were still at least a couple of days away. His companions led the horses out of the stables as Denil finished the last bite of his sandwich and he glared at his mare's saddle with distaste. Something stopped him from commenting, though, and he was embarrassed to realise that it was the memory of Jak's admiration for how well he was coping with the journey. That was enough to make him determined to prove Jak right so he climbed into the saddle without a word and followed him out to the road.

* * *

The next three days passed much as the first two had. The cold never relented but Denil gradually got used to feeling cold all day and reading in the saddle took his mind off it for a while. Sometimes Jak or Sai'em rode alongside him and they chatted, which made the time pass faster.

The evenings were the time that Denil found himself looking forward to, though. Not because he finally got to thaw out after a day in the biting cold, although that was good, but because after they blew out the lanterns or candles and lay down to sleep, he and Jak talked. The inns that they found always gave Denil and Jak a room to share, one night in two single beds but usually in one bed, and Denil discovered that he enjoyed the company. Even more surprising was the realisation that it was Jak's company in particular that he was enjoying rather than the loneliness of five years alone catching up with him. Jak gave off the impression that he was an uneducated, uncultured fighting man but Denil rapidly discovered that it was just a front. He might not have Sai'em's grasp of science but he knew as much about politics and recent history as any scholar could. He had travelled and respected the lands he had been to, although his views on their mythologies were wildly different from Denil's. Jak claimed not to follow any religion, but Denil had noticed that he wore a medallion with an image of Mithra, the Tenthorian god of soldiers, thieves and luck. It led to an interesting discussion of religion and superstition that only ended when Denil fell asleep mid-sentence.

Their views on many issues differed but for Denil that was better than if they had agreed on everything because they could discuss their ideas and Denil had always enjoyed a heated debate. Even the evening that had descended into childish exchanges of 'do' and 'do not' before they collapsed into controllable laughter had been fun. Jak's friendship was something warm, exciting and new in Denil's life, a connection that was quickly becoming important to him. Denil couldn't help feeling surprised by the rapidity with which Jak had crept into his soul. He didn't consider himself to be a person who made friends easily. Even Sharra had made the first move, sitting down at his table one lunchtime and introducing herself to a tongue-tied Denil. So it was a shock to realise how close he had become to Jak in only a week.

On the afternoon of their sixth day out of Eto, the itch at the back of Denil's mind intensified and he nudged his horse to catch up with Jak's.

"There's a storm coming," he said without preamble.

Jak glanced up at the clear sky. "Are you sure?"

Denil nodded. "We've got maybe two hours."

Sai'em trotted up to them and asked, "Storm?"

"I don't see anything," Jak protested.

"He's never been wrong yet," Sai'em said. "We should turn back. The last village had a small tavern and it's only a mile down the road."

Jak shook his head. "I'm not turning back. There's a town about five miles further on."

"Are you sure?" Sai'em asked.

"Of course I'm sure - I've got a map and I've been reading the damn things right for a long time. I can measure the distance between towns pretty well now."

"I don't think we should take the chance," Sai'em said.

"Who's the leader of this little trip? I could have sworn I heard you promising to obey my instructions when we left Eto."

"Not when they're commands that could get Denil stranded in a blizzard!"

"Denil, what do you say?"

Denil suddenly found himself the focus of two pairs of eyes and he swallowed hard. "Me?"

"You're the weather expert," Jak said. "Is there time to get to the next town or should we go back?"

Jak's expression clearly said which option he preferred but Denil was not going to let their new friendship influence his judgement. Sai'em could probably survive a blizzard with no trouble, but he and Jak were only human with human susceptibilities to the elements. He squinted towards the northern horizon and could just make out a darkening of the sky there. The wind had already picked up in the last few minutes and his weather-sense said clearly that the storm was on its way. On the other hand, he thought that they might be able to cover the distance to the town in time and the tavern in the last village had looked to be little more than a local watering hole with no room for guests. They would be lucky to get blankets on the floor there. A town held the prospect of a decent inn with rooms and beds that would be much more pleasant for the couple of days that Denil suspected the storm would last.

"We should go on," Denil said eventually. "If we push hard we should make it."

"Sweet," Jak said with a grin. "It's settled. Sai'em, stay with us or go back - it's your choice."

Sai'em didn't look happy but she spoke a word of Elvish and her horse began to trot along with the others. The storm came up rapidly and Denil began to worry that he had made the wrong choice. A mile from the town they kicked the horses into a canter and ran down the road and through the town gates, only stopping when they spotted a large building with an elegantly drawn white deer on the sign swinging outside. They rode into the courtyard as the first flakes of snow drifted out of the sky and gratefully handed the horses over to a pair of shivering grooms.

* * *

Jak was strangely quiet over supper and when they went to bed he rolled into his side facing away from Denil and pretended to sleep. Denil lay watching the shadows from the fire dance on the ceiling for a long time before concluding that Jak didn't want to talk tonight. Denil tried not to feel hurt at the sudden coldness but it was the first time Jak had made no attempt to start a conversation and for some reason it cut deeply. There was clearly something on Jak's mind but he was obviously going to deal with it on his own. Denil tried softly calling his name but there was no reply. Eventually he rolled onto his side and fell into a fitful sleep.

Denil woke a few hours later feeling groggy from his restless sleep. He knew before he opened his eyes that he was alone in the bed. That in itself was not unusual - Jak always woke before him - but usually Jak woke him up soon after and waited for him with a cup of tea. The sheets on the other side of the bed were cold and Denil couldn't smell any tea.

He opened his eyes and blinked in the darkness. The fire had burned down but it was still dark outside. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark and he began to wake up fully, he could just make out Jak standing at the room's only window staring out at the storm. The wind was just audible, whistling around the inn, and Denil judged that it would be at least a couple of days before the weather cleared enough for them to move on

He sat up in the bed and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Jak?"

For a long time there was no reply. He was about to try again when Jak said, "Go back to sleep, Denil."

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't I just tell you to go to sleep?"

Although the room was chilly, Denil threw back the blankets and padded over to Jak. He hesitated for a moment before resting a hand lightly on Jak's shoulder. Jak's skin was cold through his shirt and Denil realised that he must have been standing there for a long time.

"Don't you know how to take a hint?" Jak asked without turning around.

Denil shrugged. "I've never been good at taking orders."

There was a quiet snort from Jak that was almost a laugh, but not quite.

"You also don't know when to give up, do you?" Jak asked.

It was obviously a rhetorical question so Denil stayed quiet and waited for Jak to talk when he was ready.

"Aren't you getting cold?" Jak asked after a while.

"A little. You?"

Jak shrugged and Denil felt the muscles flex beneath his fingers.

"How long is this going to last?" Jak asked, nodding towards the snow whirling past the window.

"A day, maybe two."

"Every day that we're stuck here, my son gets further away," Jak said softly. "I don't even know whether he's still alive. I just feel - it's frustrating, you know? We should be riding to Genta as fast as we can, but instead we're stuck here watching snow. If he's still alive, Charry probably thinks that his father's abandoned him."

"You know that's not true," Denil said firmly. "You told me that he's a smart kid - he'll know that you're doing everything you can and the only reason you're not with him now is because you can't find him."

"I should have fought harder."

"How would that have helped? You were unarmed - would you be any use to Charry dead?"

Jak finally turned his head and Denil could see the fear in his eyes that he usually kept hidden so well. "What if we're already too late?"

"You'd know if you were."

"How?"

"You just would."

"What if my certainty that he's still alive is just because I can't accept that he's dead?"

"I knew that my parents had died before their assistant told me. Sai'em knew her mother was dead two days before her father told her."

"I didn't know that my parents had died until I got the letter three weeks after the funeral. I hadn't seen them for years - hell, I didn't even know that my father was sick."

"You loved Charry and you saw him every day, right?" Denil asked.

"Yes."

"Then you'd know if we were already too late."

"I want to believe."

"So believe." Denil lightly squeezed his shoulder and almost jumped when Jak raised a hand to cover his fingers. "Why would anyone go to the trouble of kidnapping your son the way they did if they didn't intend to keep him alive?"

The fear in Jak's eyes receded a little. "That's a very good point."

"I sometimes have them."

Denil couldn't help shivering when a cold gust of air slipped through the cracks in the window frame and the motion caught Jak's attention. He turned around and rested his hands on Denil's upper arms, rubbing gently.

"You're frozen," Jak said, the fear leaving eyes completely to be replaced with something that Denil couldn't quite identify. "Come on, you should be in bed. I'll get the fire started."

Another shiver shook Denil so he didn't argue and climbed into bed with the blankets tugged up to his shoulders while Jak tended to the fire. A few minutes later Jak got into the bed and they wordlessly shifted closer until their shoulders brushed. Denil turned his head on the pillow so that he could meet Jak's eyes.

"We will find him," he promised.

"I think he'll like you," Jak said.

Denil allowed a small smile to curve his lips. "Thank you."

* * *

When Jak woke hours later it took him a while to work out why it was past dawn and he was still in bed. He opened his eyes and glanced out of the window where he could still see the snow falling heavily. Although his body was telling him that it was mid-morning, the light coming into the room was still grey and faint. Denil was probably going to be right about the storm lasting for another day or so, he decided.

Jak turned his head to look at Denil and was reminded of why he usually got up as soon as he woke up. The other man was lying on his stomach with his face turned away from Jak. His hair was too long and always seemed to be flopping into his face, which Jak had tried to tell himself looked ridiculous but it really didn't. Throughout his journey to Eto, Jak had envisioned an old, shortsighted scholar with bad clothes and a bathing problem. This handsome man was nothing like that, although Jak admitted that most of Denil's clothes were patched, threadbare and mismatched and he had caught him squinting at signs a couple of times. Nothing, though, had prepared him for meeting someone like Denil. Probably nothing could. Getting to know the man better was only reinforcing that impression. Denil wasn't just attractive and intelligent, he was also caring, funny and the kind of man who valued friendships. Jak suspected that it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge into falling hard for the scholar.

He was still watching Denil a while later when he grunted softly and rolled over to stretch. Jak's mouth was suddenly bone-dry as he watched Denil's shirt tighten across his chest, showing the unscholarly physique that haunted his dreams. He tried to tell himself that he should look away, but his eyes refused to obey. This was exactly the reason why he was usually a couple of feet away with a mug of tea when Denil woke up. It was so tempting to reach out and touch things that he definitely shouldn't be touching if he wanted to keep their relationship strictly platonic.

Denil finished stretching and relaxed back onto the bed. He opened his eyes and for a moment Jak forgot to breathe as a smile of pure happiness lit up his face and was echoed in his beautiful blue eyes.

"Morning," Denil said, his voice husky from sleep.

Heat was rushing through Jak's body and he carefully shifted to hide the evidence of his arousal from the man lying next to him. He began silently cursing the gods that had made Denil a beautiful, caring man instead of the elderly, smelly scholar he had been expecting when he set out.

"Morning," Jak managed to rasp.

Denil rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on one arm, coincidentally putting his face only a few inches from Jak's. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

It took Jak a moment to work out that Denil was referring to his moment of despair last night. In the light of day, Jak felt slightly embarrassed that Denil had seen him at such a low point, but there was nothing in his eyes to indicate that Denil respected him any less for it. Denil's eyes reflected his every mood; he didn't seem to know how to hide his emotions so they shone clearly through even though he tried to control his expressions. At the moment, Denil was completely unguarded and his eyes showed only affection and quiet contentment.

"I'm feeling better," Jak said, hoping his pause hadn't been noticeable. "Thanks. You?"

A smile flashed across Denil's face. "Me? I've had some sleep, I'm warm and I might get to stay that way for a day. I'm feeling good."

A moment later Denil's eyes filled with distress. "Not that I'm...Jak, I don't resent you or anything for asking me to come along. Far from it. I didn't intend to...that didn't...I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Jak couldn't resist laying a hand on Denil's free arm where it lay on the blankets between them. "I know what you meant."

"You do?"

"These conditions wouldn't be easy for a seasoned veteran and you're far from that. You're a scholar, a linguist, and you've travelled through weather that has anyone with any sense running for a place to wait out the winter." Jak began absently rubbing a thumb over the soft material of Denil's worn shirt. "This is the first time I've heard you say anything even remotely like a complaint and to be honest, I admire that."

"Oh."

"And it is nice not feeling cold for a while."

A small smile reappeared on Denil's face. "Thanks."

Jak returned the smile and tried to find something else to say. It was hard to think, though, with Denil so close, allowing him to touch, smiling in a way that seemed to make the rest of the world go away. He could feel himself getting caught in the blue-eyed gaze and couldn't dray his eyes away. Jak slowly slid his hand up Denil's arm to rest on his shoulder. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice that movement - didn't notice that he was moving closer to Denil until the soft look in his eyes was replaced with confusion.

That was enough to shock Jak out of his sensual haze. It worked better than a bucket of ice water. He rolled over and sat up so swiftly his head swam for a moment.

"Hungry?" Jak asked, his voice slightly muffled as he rubbed his hands over his face.

"Jak? What's wrong?"

He plastered a grin on his face and looked down at Denil lying on his back with a surprised expression. "Nothing's wrong. I just realised that it's late and we need to hustle if we're going to get any breakfast."

Denil's eyes searched his face intently for a moment and Jak fought to keep his expression neutral. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Denil nodded even as he cursed himself for putting the confusion in his eyes.

"Alright, breakfast sounds good," Denil said.

* * *

Breakfast turned out to be much better than at any inn they'd yet stayed in. The innkeeper produced dishes of sausages, bacon, eggs and mushrooms and a large pot of tea. Sai'em entered the common room as Jak and Denil were sitting down, a liberal sprinkling of melting snowflakes in her hair and on her coat indicating that she had already been out to check the storm's progress. She grabbed a plate from the pile that the innkeeper had left and began loading it with food from the dishes. There was a troubled expression in her pale blue eyes but she said nothing at first. Jak poured her a mug of tea that she sampled, grimaced and added a large dose of honey to. He noticed that Denil drank his with a blissful expression and mentally slapped himself for finding the expression so appealing.

Jak busied himself with eating while the food was still hot so that he didn't do anything to embarrass himself or make Sai'em any more suspicious of him than she already was. The bruise on his jaw was now at the ugly green-yellow stage but she still gave him occasional questioning looks as though she hadn't believed Denil's explanation about it. Jak found that he couldn't blame her - he was attracted to the man, after all. He had promised himself that it would go no further, but how could the elf know that?

She was suspicious of anything connected to wizards and, ordinarily, Jak would have applauded that. The problem was that the wizards might hold the key to his son's disappearance and so he needed them. That brought him right back to the reasons why he needed Denil, which in turn took him to the reasons why he need to allay Sai'em's suspicions. It was a circular problem.

Jak was pulled out of his musings when Sai'em cleared her throat.

"Has anyone noticed that these storms aren't natural?" she asked.

"Aren't natural?" Jak echoed.

Denil gave her a puzzled look. "I know they're bad, but it's not unusual for winter to come this early-"

"But it came too suddenly," Sai'em said, cutting him off. "I've been asking around while you were asleep."

For some reason, Jak suddenly felt his face warm even though it had been a perfectly innocent sleep-in. The look in Sai'em's eyes implied that she wasn't so sure about his innocence but she was too polite to comment on it in public.

"Everyone agrees that we went from late autumn to mid-winter without a transition phase," Sai'em continued. "The storms don't usually start with this kind of intensity. The weather isn't natural."

"If it isn't natural, then what is it?" Jak asked.

Sai'em fixed him with an intent gaze. "Is there any chance that your wizards are involved in something?"

"'My' wizards?"

"You work for them."

"I'm Commander of the Genta Watch - I don't work for the wizards."

Sai'em raised her eyebrows. "Really? Then why are you taking Denil to them?"

Jak sighed. "They have information that I need and he might be able to translate it. I'm not working for them and I definitely don't know what they'd be doing."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"He's telling the truth," Denil said softly. "Jak came to me because I might be the only person who can help. If the wizards could translate the document we need, they'd never have sent for me."

"They couldn't even recognise the alphabet it was written in," Jak confirmed. "What makes you so certain the wizards are mixed up in it anyway?"

"Do you know anything about human magic?" Sai'em asked.

Jak shook his head. Knowing about magic had never been important to his career. Wizards stayed in their compound and elves stayed out of human affairs completely.

"Human magic is wasteful and destructive." Sai'em's expression showed her distaste. "It requires blood sacrifices to do any powerful spells and large workings mess up energy fields for miles around. Careless magic can change weather patterns for weeks. These storms aren't natural and that leaves only one explanation - the wizards have been playing with something they should have left alone."

"Whatever they've been up to, it's got nothing to do with me," Jak said firmly.

Sai'em's eyes held his for a long moment before she finally nodded. "I believe you."

"Thanks."

"Is this going to cause a problem?" Denil asked.

Sai'em shrugged. "I have no idea. Your weather-sense still seems to be working so we at least have a warning if a storm is about to fall on us."

"But we're going to get bogged down in storms," Jak said heavily, feeling the frustration from last night boiling up again. "There's nothing you can do?"

"No. My magic doesn't affect weather - elves don't tamper with things that they don't understand."

There was a muffled snort from Denil's direction and Jak turned to him in time to watch his face redden and his shoulders shake. For a moment, he thought Denil was choking until he realised that he was trying vainly to suppress incredulous laughter.

"I'm sorry, Sai'em," Denil managed after a couple of minutes of desperate struggling. "It's just - you've always meddled with things that you don't understand. Remember the boiling tank? It took out three sheds when it blew."

A faint hint of pink appeared on Sai'em's normally pale face. "That wasn't-"

"And there was that powder you were experimenting with that exploded if you got a lit lantern within ten feet of it."

"It-"

"What about that device I found in Ventaxia that you just had to fiddle with?"

Sai'em took a deep breath. "It's not the same thing."

"Isn't it?" Denil sobered. "The quest for knowledge involves risks - you've always told me that. The consequences of some of those risks can be more dangerous than others, but does that justify condemning the people who take them?"

"Why are you defending wizards?" Sai'em asked.

Denil offered her a faint smile. "I don't like them any more than you do, but that doesn't mean that I'm blind. Wizards have to research as much as we do. I could wish that they'd be more careful and considerate with their experiments, but I can't condemn them for trying to satisfy their curiosity because I'm just as guilty of that as they are."

"I just wish that they'd stick to magic they can do without sacrifices and needless waste," Sai'em said.

Jak had a feeling that this was a minor skirmish in a long-standing argument between them. He didn't like wizards any more than they did and he resented their experiments slowing his search for his son, but he needed them. There was something deeper there for Sai'em and Denil, something that he couldn't put his finger on yet but that he'd work out one day.

The tense atmosphere suddenly disappeared as Sai'em flashed a bright smile and gestured to the last slice of bacon. "Do you mind?"

Jak shook his head and gestured for her to take it. Sai'em did, consuming it in two quick bites before standing.

"If you gentlemen would excuse me?"

Without waiting for a reply, she picked up her mug of tea and left the common room.

"That was sudden," Jak said after a moment.

"You get used to it," Denil said with a quick smile. "Sai'em isn't good at small talk."

"I noticed." Jak drained the last drop of tea from his mug, wondering how he could occupy himself for two days in an inn without going insane. "Got any plans?"

Denil shrugged. "I have some books."

Jak winced. "Sounds thrilling."

"It will be."

Inspiration suddenly struck Jak and he grinned as he realised that his idea would be a perfect way to work out all his various frustrations. "You said that you can defend yourself."

"Yes," Denil said warily.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"I said, prove it."

"You want to fight with me?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

Denil gave him an odd look. "Fun?"

"Fun. It's a concept you might not have come across in book-land, but us mere mortals frequently do it. We'll spar and it'll be fun."

Denil did not look convinced.

* * *

The case was hidden deep inside Denil's pack, wrapped in a spare pair of socks for additional security. He drew it out and opened it, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the contents were nestling undamaged in their specially designed compartment. It didn't look like much, just a couple of pieces of glass held together on a wire frame, but it was unique and difficult to replace, if not impossible. Sai'em had made the spectacles a few years ago when she was investigating the properties of light and glass. She had spent weeks getting the lenses curved just right, even resorting to magic when her grinding tools were too coarse for the work, and Denil treasured them almost as much as his books. He could still remember the amazement he'd felt when he first put on the finished version and the world had suddenly come into sharp focus. Everything lost the usual slight blur at the edges and for the first time he had been able to read the spines of books in the library from a couple of feet away.

He put them on now and a faint echo of that long ago magic shivered through him. The bedroom was now sharply focused and he could make out every knot in the wood of the door. The frames that held the glass lenses to his eyes had been made to hook securely behind his ears. They felt firm and they had never fallen off, but he was always nervous about wearing them in case they were damaged. Sai'em had asked, countless times, what the purpose was in owning the spectacles if he never used them. Denil felt guilty about admitting that he wasn't sure she could reproduce this work if anything happened to them. He had used them when he was in strange libraries or working on excavations during his summer expeditions but he had barely worn them since Sharra's death - he had seen no need.

Sparring with Jak, though, could be dangerous without his vision at full-strength so he wore them despite his misgivings. On the one hand, the spectacles could get damaged, but on the other hand they would both be aiming not to hurt each other and that took more skill and accuracy than simply trying to kill each other.

Denil picked up the fighting staff, thought about changing before deciding that his leather riding breeches and plain shirt would be fine, and went back to the common room.

The innkeeper had moved the tables and benches to one side, leaving a clear area for them to work in. Jak was already warming up so Denil took a spot in one corner and went through the stretching exercises that Sai'em had taught him years ago. When he was sure that his muscles were sufficiently loosened, Denil expanded the staff to its full length and stepped into the centre of the room.

Jak held up his sword uncertainly. "I can use this or the innkeeper can find me a broom handle."

Denil shrugged. "I trust you. Sai'em taught me to defend against a sword as well as a staff."

Jak drew the sword and tossed the sheath onto one of the tables before standing opposite Denil. "Alright then. Show me what you've got."

Denil gripped the staff in both hands, remembering Sai'em's long ago instructions. At first they circled each other warily and then Jak struck out lightning fast. The instincts flowed back and Denil countered quickly. Jak tested him again and but each counter-move came to Denil with the smoothness of long practice. It might have been years since he had really needed to use these skills but apparently some things were instinctive. The blocks and parries to meet Jak's swift attacks were moves that his muscles could remember without consulting his conscious mind.

Denil grinned.

* * *

Jak noticed Denil's feral grin and returned it. The scholar might look peaceful and gentle, but there seemed to be fire in him as well that made Jak's blood heat. He attacked again, grunting as his sword was driven off with a strong swipe of Denil's staff. Denil was fast and accurate, keeping up his guard while he warded off Jak's thrusts. Jak harried him relentlessly, never giving Denil time to recover, and Denil's staff countered each move just as quickly.

The battle took them around their small arena and Jak was distantly aware of kitchen helpers coming out to watch the spectacle. His entire attention was centred on the man in front of him wielding a staff with what he knew could be deadly skill.

It was just as fun as he had predicted.

Jak backed off for a moment to catch his breath. Denil was sweating liberally, his shirt clinging to his skin and moving with him as he panted. The odd wire frames on his face looked like a part of him and added to the strange contradiction of scholar and fighter. His choice of weapon showed that he was more inclined to peaceful resolutions than fights but he had enough skill to make anyone regret challenging him. Jak wondered who had taught him. The staff was an elf-weapon so he suspected that it had been Sai'em.

Denil saluted him with the staff. "Ready?"

"Unless you want to yield," Jak said, returning the salute.

Denil shrugged and launched into an attack. His staff whirled and Jak was hard-pressed to fend off the blows. Jak's sword-arm ached from the jarring vibrations and he was forced to back away. Denil followed an over-arm blow with a rapid swipe at Jak's ankles, forcing him to leap over the staff. A moment later Jak had to duck and roll across the floor to avoid a swing aimed at his head. Surprisingly, he never once doubted that Denil could pull his blows if he needed to.

Jak quickly leapt to his feet and faced Denil. They exchanged a few soft, testing taps before launching into an exchange that was half race and half fight, unorthodox as hell and so much fun that Jak realised he was laughing even as he evaded a particularly sneaky pattern of blows.

A moment later he realised that Denil had somehow manoeuvred him exactly where he wanted him. Denil shifted his grip on his staff and tangled it with Jak's sword. Jak's hand stung as his sword was whipped out of it and sent sliding across the floor under a table. Denil leaned on his staff and grinned.

"Yield?" he asked.

Jak caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eyes and held out his hand in time to catch a broom handle thrown to him by one of the kitchen lads.

"Never," he said as he stepped forward and attacked.

Denil stumbled hack, quickly raising his staff to defend himself. This time the fight was more evenly matched. The room was filled with the loud clacks of wood on wood as each man fought for the upper hand. Jak managed to get past Denil's guard once to slap him on the ass with his makeshift staff and a minute later Denil retaliated with a gentle tap to his stomach. Denil had rapid reflexes but Jak's experience and stamina eventually took their toll. He managed to distract the scholar for a vital moment with a feint and swept his legs out from under him while his balance was off. Denil landed on his back and grunted as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Jak put a foot on the hand that held Denil's staff and rested the end of his broom handle against Denil's throat. "Yield?"

Denil swallowed. "Yes."

Jak took his foot off Denil's wrist and offered him a hand up. "You're not bad."

"You're pretty good yourself."

As Denil came to his feet there was quiet applause from the small group of inn staff that had been watching from a corner. Denil's flush from the exertion deepened with embarrassment. Jak couldn't help the heat rushing through his body at the sight.

"I'm going to wash up," Denil said before fleeing the room.

Jak glared at the snickering kitchen helpers. One lad sent him a saucy wink that he ignored with dignity.

* * *

By mid-afternoon Jak was bored. He had finished all his darning and repairing and one of the inn's maids had taken all their dirty clothes to wash. The horses were comfortable and clean and the tack had been washed and checked for damage. Sai'em was doing something in one of the cellars and had banned Jak and Denil from interrupting her. The rest of the inn's guests were either in their rooms or drinking in the common room. Denil had retired to a private sitting room off the common room with his books. Jak had briefly considered seeking out a game of dice or cards in the common room but somehow that wasn't as appealing as sitting with Denil. He had looked at Denil's books but only one was in Common and it had almost sent him to sleep by the second page.

Jak shifted in his chair and watched Denil turn another page in his book. The expression of deep concentration on Denil's face only made Jak want to disturb him and get that intense gaze focused on him. He managed to resist for a while but when a bell struck the hour somewhere outside the inn, Jak's resistance grew weaker.

"Good book?" he asked eventually.

Denil turned another page. "Yes, thank you."

"What's it about?" Not that Jak wanted to know, but it seemed a good way to start a conversation.

"A romance."

Jak tried to guess whether Denil was joking but after a minute's observation he had to conclude that he wasn't. "Really?"

The book slowly lowered until Jak could see Denil's eyes. "Are you bored?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"The fidgeting, the sudden interest in what I'm reading - do I need to go on?"

"Sorry, go back to your, uh, romance."

Denil's eyes narrowed. "Are you mocking my choice of literature?"

"Well-"

"This is an old story retold many times over the past thousand years."

"Uh-"

"There are really only three themes in fiction - love, hate and the quest for power. Throughout the ages these themes have recurred again and again in some form or combination."

Jak help up a hand to cut off the flow of words. "I said I was sorry."

"You did."

"And now I mean it. I won't make fun of your book again."

"Thank you."

There was a brief pause and then Jack asked, "So, what's it about?"

Denil sighed and lowered the book to his lap. " _Ianith and Deblen._ "

"Never heard of them."

"Have you heard of Teblith and Corat?"

"Maybe."

A smile appeared on Denil's face but it was gone a moment later. Jak was quickly learning that those lightning smiles were the usual way with Denil and it took something really special to get a full smile out of him.

"They're two men who are childhood best friends," Denil said. "They go through many adventures and false directions before realising that their soul mate isn't out there in some distant land, but right next to them. Eventually they live out their lives together and die on the same day. I've found five versions of the story in different cultures. One version is over a thousand years old. The names and places change but the core of the story remains the same. Don't you think that's amazing?"

"Fascinating," Jak said dryly.

Another lightning smile flashed across Denil's face. "Want me to read to you?"

"I know how it ends now."

"You don't deal well with not doing anything."

Jak shrugged. "I like to keep active. Do you think the innkeeper has a stones board?"

A brief search produced a board and pieces from a chest in the corner. It also contained several dice and cups, cards from three countries and two versions of Hound and Hare. A low table with spindly legs was pulled out from the corner it had been hidden in and they set up the board. Jak took blue, Denil took red and they decided on ten neutral green stones. Denil's patently false expression of innocence when Jak asked whether he knew how to play was enough of a clue for Jak not to let him start with two king stones.

After a couple of moves, Denil looked up. "So, who did you fight with?"

Jak studied the board carefully before moving his house stone into a safe slot. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think that someone who fights like you do has spent his life with the Watch."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Denil quickly took two of Jak's stones and landed in a neutral slot. "I've met plenty of career Watchmen - most of them couldn't handle a sword without hurting themselves."

"Well, that's not fair." Jak grinned. "True, but unfair."

"So?"

"I was a mercenary."

Denil didn't look disgusted or appalled, only interested, which made a nice change from the usual reactions Jak got.

"Which company?" Denil asked.

"Wolf."

The scholar raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "You must be good."

"I'm still alive."

"You've also got both hands so you're not a thief."

"Got my balls, too - not a rapist."

"I'd never have believed that you were."

"But you'd believe that I was a thief?"

Jak played his move while he waited for Denil to answer.

"I don't think you'd take anything that someone couldn't afford," Denil said carefully, "but I know how mercenaries make their money."

"You also seem to know Wolf Company's reputation."

"Yes, but I'd be stupid to always believe a reputation. Stories can get exaggerated and changed with repeated retellings - it happens often enough in the works that I translate."

"Good point. In this case I'd say Wolf Company's reputation is pretty accurate. No rape, no looting from our employers or civilians who can't afford it and no butchery. Instead, we charge extortionate fees because we're the best out there."

"You talk as though you're still a part of them."

Jack considered it for a minute. "I guess it was a big part of my life for a long time and it's hard to forget something like that."

"Do you miss it?"

"Fighting in the rain? Foot rot? Damp tents? Blistering heat in the summer and employers who can't understand why winter campaigns are a bad idea? Never knowing whether I'll make it through another season? Why would I miss that?"

Denil smiled and moved his king stone to a spot which meant Jak had to hastily regroup or risk half his forces being wiped out.

"Why did you do it?" Denil asked.

That was a question that Jak was rarely asked, although it was something he had thought about for a long time when he first bought his bond with the Company. "Well, you see, I have these skills - talents, if you will. I'm good at fighting and strategising. I was never going to go into trade like my parents - didn't have the eye for a bargain like they did or a head for figures. I'm not big on book learning either. I thought about joining the army but that would mean obeying orders even if they weren't the right ones and one day I'd have to kill people who didn't deserve to die. I knew a lot of the companies didn't have much of a code so I didn't want to go merc. Then I heard about Wolf Company and it just seemed right. We were mercenaries so we were hardly angels, but I figured that if someone had to fight then it should be someone who believes in protecting innocents. So I went to their base quarters and tried out. Must have done something right because they sold me a bond."

"You got out with all your body parts, too," Denil commented.

"Yup. I can't say that doing any of the things that would have lost me body parts ever appealed." Jack shrugged. "I caught a guy raping a kid one time, and listening to him scream when they castrated him almost made up for having to bury the kid after he suicided."

For a moment Denil looked green but he swallowed and visibly collected himself. "I'm sorry."

"It happens."

For a while they played in silence. Denil had a good grasp of strategy and a quick mind, giving Jak a challenge that he hadn't had for years. Twice he was forced to regroup before Denil's forces could surround him. Somehow the scholar managed to capture a couple of Jak's stones and turn them to his side. That proved to be Jak's undoing when he missed a sneak attack partially hidden by some clever manoeuvres with the neutral stones.

Jak conceded defeat and turned his house stone black side up. "Good game."

"Thank you. Try again?"

* * *

Denil shifted uncomfortably in the bed and silently prayed that Jak wouldn't notice.

"Denil?"

No, he wasn't having a lucky night. He was one solid ache from his shoulders to his thighs where Jak had managed to the throw him to the floor earlier.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

This was one of the better beds that they been given but Denil couldn't get comfortable. He rolled onto his front and turned his head towards Jak. The other man was lying on his side facing Denil and the fire in the hearth provided enough flickering light to make out the concern in Jak's brown eyes.

"I'm fine," Denil lied.

"Could have fooled me," Jak said with a snort.

"It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, why aren't you asleep yet?"

"I'm not tired."

"You are a rotten liar."

Denil concentrated on relaxing the knotted muscles in his back instead of replying to that. After a while, Jak sighed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry," he said.

"You were just being concerned," Denil conceded.

"You're not comfortable with that - I get it." Jak paused. "Actually, I don't get it but I can respect your privacy if I have to."

"Thanks."

"If it helps, I've got a bruise on my ribs that hurts like hell," Jak said. "We probably should have been wearing padding."

"I should learn to land better," Denil said ruefully.

"I could teach you, if you'd like. A good landing can make the difference in a fight."

"Thanks. I might take you up on that."

"Any time."

Denil lay watching Jak until he realised that he was tracking the flickering firelight on Jak's skin and wondering what it would feel like if he ran his fingertips over Jak's cheek.

"Well, goodnight then," he said quickly, closing his eyes.

A moment later, the mattress shifted and Denil guessed that Jak was rolling over.

"Yeah, goodnight," Jak said softly.

It was a long time before Denil drifted into sleep.

* * *

Denil landed on the bed and bounced a couple of times. He glared up at Jak, who was standing over him with a wide smirk on his face.

"Having fun?" Jak asked, offering a hand to help Denil up.

"Oh, yeah, getting thrown around all morning is something I've always wanted to do," Denil said, hoping he didn't sound as irritable as he thought he did.

He accepted the hand up and stepped back when he was standing again. Jak had taken one look at the falling snow and declared that there was no time like the present to teach the art of falling safely. Denil had taken one look at the wooden floor in the common room and declared that there was no way he was getting thrown onto that again. They had reached a compromise; they had stripped the bed and Denil was now getting to learn by landing heavily on the mattress. He was just hoping that the bed survived the experience.

"Ready?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded. "Do your worst."

Without warning, Jak stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. He tried to use one of the counter-moves that Jak had shown him but he rapidly found himself thumping down on the bed again. This time he remembered Jak's lessons and the landing didn't knock the breath out of him. He was even able to roll over and stand quickly rather than lying on his back panting for air the way he usually did.

"You're getting it!" Jak exclaimed with a wide grin. "Want to go again?"

Denil didn't wait for Jak's advance this time. Instead he stepped forward and grabbed Jak's arm, jamming his hip against him for leverage before attempting to sweep Jak's feet out from under him.

A moment later Denil was again bouncing on his back, trying to work out why the world had suddenly spun dizzyingly.

"Nice try," Jak said.

Denil rolled to his feet, proudly noting that he had landed well even though he hadn't been expecting to get thrown. They tried several more times and Jak's lessons, at least the parts on landing, began to sink in to the instinctual level. The grins Jak gave him each time he helped Denil up were tinged with pride and it made something inside Denil shiver each time.

"Last time," Jak said. "Really go for it this time - if you can get me off my feet I'll buy you a drink."

Denil steadied himself and made sure his footing was secure. "Deal."

For a moment he thought that he had finally done it when he felt Jak's weight shift under his sudden attack, but then the world tilted and he bounced on the bed again. Jak stood over him, smirking offensively.

"The innkeeper's got a good bottle of brandy in his cellar," Jak said casually.

Denil wasn't ready to admit defeat yet. He tangled his legs between Jak's, tugged hard and was rewarded with the sight of Jak landing hard on his back and bouncing a couple of times. When he knelt up over Jak, the comically shocked expression on his face was enough to make Denil chuckle.

"Thanks for the drink," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

"You think this is funny? I'll show you funny."

Denil was suddenly on his back with Jak kneeling over him and a moment later Jak began to tickle him. Somehow, in the space of a couple of breaths, Jak managed to find every ticklish spot on Denil's body and rendered him helpless with laughter. His ribs soon began to ache and still Jak continued. Denil weakly tried to protest but Jak just grinned evilly and continued.

"Please...stop," Denil protested breathlessly.

Jak finally took pity on him and stopped the torture. Denil lay still for a moment, catching his breath and working out his revenge.

"Yield?" Jak asked.

Denil surged up, pushed against Jak's chest, and a moment later Jak was on his back with Denil straddling his thighs and both wrists held against the mattress. Denil felt Jak testing his grip but he held firm, although he knew that Jak could probably break it if he really tried. He stopped trying after a few breaths and lay on his back grinning up at Denil. The scholar suddenly felt breathless.

"You should do that more often," Jak said softly.

"I should do what?"

"Laugh. It's a good look on you."

Denil stared down into Jak's face. He was close enough that he could see the fine lines at the corners of Jak's brown eyes and a small scar cutting across his eyebrow suddenly caught his attention. He hadn't been close enough to notice it before and he released Jak's wrist to touch it before he could stop himself.

"Denil?"

Jak's lowered lip was fuller than his top lip. Should he be finding that so fascinating? Denil suddenly had an insane urge to lean down and kiss Jak. It was so strong and so completely unexpected that the breath caught in his throat. He moved down a couple of inches and flicked his eyes up to meet Jak's. The heat in Jak's eyes made Denil aware of what he was doing, of the line he was about to cross, and he jerked back. Hoping that his embarrassment didn't show on his face, he quickly moved away from Jak and rolled off the bed.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, refusing to look at Jak.

"Denil-"

"Sorry, I - there's...Sai'em...it's late," he stuttered. "Thanks for the lessons."

Without looking at Jak, Denil stumbled out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it and closed his eyes, allowing a small sigh to escape.

"Denil?"

He jumped and whirled to face Sai'em. She was standing a couple of feet away with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Did Jak-"

"No!" Denil exclaimed. He cleared his throat and in a calmer voice said, "He didn't do anything. It was me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It was tempting. Denil had always confided in Sai'em. She was like a best friend and older sister rolled up into one occasionally confusing person. She had also been Sharra's mentor and something in Denil rejected the idea of talking to her. What was there to say? He was having unexpected feelings for someone who was as different from Sharra as night was from day. No, talking to Sai'em about this wasn't something Denil wanted to do.

"It's not really something you can help with," he said, trying to find a way to put her off without worrying or hurting her. "It's something I have to deal with."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Really."

Sai'em sighed. "I'm here if you need to talk to someone."

"I know." Denil pushed away from the door and began walking towards the staircase. "The innkeeper has a stones board. Would you like a game?"

She fell into step with him. "Usual stakes?"

"Why don't we up it to three coppers for each piece and a silver for the game?"

"Someone's feeling confident."

"Too rich for you?"

"Never. Just remember - pride cometh before a fall."

* * *

Jak lay on his back with his forearm resting over his eyes. He had run through his collection of curses twice and none of it was helping.

"Great move, Kern," he muttered. "Practically pounce on the man - that will keep things cool really well. For crying out loud, you were all over him. Note for the future - offering to do anything with full-body contact is a very stupid idea."

The cursing and castigation were no use; each time Jak closed his eyes he saw Denil's face above him and that expression that just for a moment had looked like Denil was going to kiss him.

* * *

Neither man mentioned the incident again. Denil spent most of the afternoon alone in the private sitting room writing in his journal, trying to work out where his sudden and possibly insane urges had come from. Wanting to kiss Jak - wanting to kiss anyone after Sharra - wasn't something he had expected or thought he needed. He'd been perfectly content with his life the way it had been. It had been quiet and tranquil, with no surprises and no emotions sneaking up to ambush him. Now his life was suddenly chaotic and unsettling again.

Denil capped his pen and stared into the distance. Did he want to feel that way again? It terrified him, yet at the same time it excited him. It was as though he had spent the past five years in a grey, safe world and now the veil was lifting and he felt alive again. When had he made the decision to allow that to happen?

He answered that question for himself. It was at the same time that he had allowed Jak to pull him out of his safe world in the university and forced him to live in the real world again.

* * *

Supper was quiet and strained and Denil didn't linger afterwards. Jak didn't look at him as Denil made his goodnights and went to the bedroom. He spent a while trying to concentrate on a book before giving up and blowing out the candles, leaving the fire in the hearth as the room's only illumination. Sleep didn't come quickly and he lay awake staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling for hours before he heard footsteps in the hallway outside. He rolled onto his side and feigned sleep as the door creaked open.

There was a loud thump and a moment later muffled, slurred curses. Jak stumbled around the room for a few minutes before Denil felt the bed dip and the smell of strong brandy wafted over him. Obviously Jak had used the past few hours to work his way through the innkeeper's cellar. Denil wanted to turn over and ask Jak what had happened to make him get drunk but he thought better of the idea. It didn't take long for Jak's drunken snores to fill the room but Denil lay awake until an hour before dawn.

When Jak woke him up with a cup of tea, Denil looked into his eyes and tried to gauge what he was feeling, but Jak's face unreadable. There were dark circles under Jak's eyes and he winced when Denil cleared his throat noisily. Denil wanted to offer sympathy for the hangover but the blank look in Jak's eyes discouraged it. The storm had blown itself out overnight so Jak gave him curt instructions to meet him in the stables before leaving the room. This was one morning when Denil would have given a great deal for a few more hours of sleep and a chance to talk to Jak, but instead he sipped his tea and forced his body to wake up.

* * *

Snow was piled three feet deep either side of the road but its strange surface was clear. Denil followed Jak with Sai'em riding behind him, for once not reaching into his pack for a book as soon as they left the town. His eyes felt gritty and sore and he kept drifting off into a dazed half-trance from sheer exhaustion. He had seen his face reflected in the water in the washstand earlier so he knew that he only looked marginally better than Jak. Sai'em kept shooting him worried glances and he could feel her eyes burning into his back as he rode.

The day passed slowly and silently. It was long after sunset when Jak finally led them to a small village off the road and stopped in front of an inn. Denil was almost shaking with cold and exhaustion by then and the ugly, misshapen building looked like heaven in the dark. They left the horses with a groom and Sai'em lightly squeezed Denil's hand as she brushed past him on her way into the inn. It was her quiet way of letting him know that she was there if he needed her and a small amount of warmth seeped in at the gesture.

Jak was already negotiating with the innkeeper when Denil approached. He didn't pay any attentions to the arrangements and only noticed that something was odd when the maid led him to a room two down from the room Jak was already closing a door on. For a moment he hesitated and opened his mouth to ask what was going on before shaking his head tiredly and following her to his room. He ignored her puzzled look and dumped his pack on the bed.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked, pausing at the door.

Denil looked around the stark, ugly room. A bed and a washstand were the only furniture, something that had never mattered before but suddenly made him feel very lonely. The thought of going back to the common room and eating in a room of strangers only made the feeling worse.

"Can you bring me some food?" he asked.

The girl nodded and disappeared. She returned quickly and Denil gave her a few coppers, putting her out gently but firmly when she hinted that a few more coppers would buy her company for the night. He ate quickly, barely tasting the watery stew, and crawled into bed to try and sleep.

Hours later Denil was still awake, lying on his side facing the window so that he could see the stars outside. The room felt too empty. There was no quiet breathing next to him and no rustles as another body moved. Jak wasn't there to pester him about still being awake and talk to him until he felt sleepy. The depth of his loneliness terrified Denil. He hadn't felt this adrift since Sharra's death. He hadn't been this dependent on anyone since he lost her and it made him realise yet again that his safe, sensible world was slowly fading away.

A quiet scratching sound came through the door and Denil turned his head towards it. A moment later it slowly opened and the moonlight reflected off Jak's silvering hair as he cautiously looked around it.

"What's wrong?" Denil asked, his heart rate picking up suddenly.

A barely audible sigh reached his ears. "I was hoping you were asleep."

Denil sat up, pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither." Jak hesitated. "Mind if I come in?"

"No," Denil said without stopping to think about it.

"'No' you don't mind, or 'no' I can't come in?" Jak asked.

Denil shook his head and sternly told himself not to smile at the man who had ignored him for over a day. "Just get in here."

* * *

This probably rated as one of his stupider ideas, Jak told himself as he crossed the room and stood uncertainly by the bed. Denil shifted over a little and Jak gingerly sat down on the edge. He still managed to be close enough for Denil's feet to press against his thigh but it would be too obvious to move away.

How do you apologise for getting drunk and ignoring someone for something that wasn't their fault? A part of Jak wanted to blame Denil for being something he hadn't expected but that wasn't fair to him and most of the time Jak tried to be a fair man. Fairness didn't necessarily equate to honesty and he had already decided that was a compromise he'd have to make. He had stood outside the door for a long time before making a move and, even when he was scratching at the door, he had been praying that Denil would still be asleep.

Of course, he should have known that he wouldn't have that kind of luck. Denil never seemed to do what he was supposed to or what was expected. Jak was slowly learning that it was impossible to predict the man.

"Jak, I-"

He held up a finger and Denil stopped with an audible click as his teeth snapped together.

"I'm sorry," Jak said uncomfortably.

"You are? What for?" The puzzled look on Denil's face was completely genuine and Jak briefly wondered what the scholar had been anticipating.

"I was selfish last night," he said. "I shouldn't have got drunk like that. I shouldn't have ignored you all day. I was an insensitive ass."

"Oh."

There was definitely something else going on in there but Jak couldn't put his finger on it.

Instead he pressed on with his planned apology. "Sometimes I'm not a nice person to be around and this has been one of those times. Forgive me?"

"For being an ass?" Denil asked dazedly.

Jak shrugged. "If you want to put it that way."

"You were the one who brought it up."

"I guess."

He glanced at Denil hopefully. Emotions were passing across his face too fast to make out and Jak held his breath.

"I forgive you this time," Denil said eventually.

Jak released his breath. "Thank you."

"Just give me a hint the next time you feel like being an ass."

"Deal."

A knot of tension lifted that Jak hadn't even known was there. He could see that there was still something troubling Denil; it was in his eyes, and he couldn't ignore it.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

A lightning quick smile crossed Denil's face. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you still awake?"

Denil's eyes suddenly shifted away, tracking across the entire room before returning to Jak. "It was too quiet."

"Quiet?"

Denil shifted uncomfortably. "I got used to having someone else in here. I kept expecting to hear you."

"I make that much noise?"

"No, but it was something I got used to." Another lightning smile. "You're still awake, too."

"I was contemplating what an ass I've been and trying to decide whether I could fix it." A raised eyebrow forced Jak to add, "It might have been a little quiet in over in my room, too. Just don't go spreading it around."

"Oh, I have no intention of doing that."

"So we're good now, right?" Jak asked, trying to decipher Denil's expression.

"We're good," Denil agreed.

"I should probably . . ." Jak gestured towards the door. "It's late and you're tired."

Denil nodded. "Sounds good."

Jak stood. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

Jak was out in the corridor before he realised that Denil hadn't asked him what had prompted his attack of nasty behaviour. He had fully expected a grilling on it. Denil didn't seem the type to just let like something that go, but he had almost seemed relieved that Jak hadn't explained. In fact, he hadn't really answered why he was awake either and that made Jak wonder.

The curiosity only lasted until the moment Jak's head hit his pillow because he immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The following evening Jak requested two rooms for the group even though the nearly deserted common room clearly suggested that there would be enough for one each. He caught the surprised look on Denil's face out of the corner of his eye. When he looked again as they followed a serving lad to their room, that expression had been replaced by something that wasn't quite a smile, but made Jak's stomach clench anyway.

* * *

On the morning of the fourteenth day out of Eto, Denil was surprised when Jak dropped back to ride beside him as soon as the town they had stayed in disappeared behind them. A moment later, Sai'em joined them on his other side.

"He talked to you, too?" Jak asked.

Sai'em nodded.

"Talked to you about what?" Denil asked curiously.

"The innkeeper warned me about a gang of bandits operating along this section of the road," Sai'em said.

"They've robbed two groups in the past month," Jak added. "Three deaths."

Denil looked around the featureless white landscape. "Bandits? They'd have to be mad or desperate to operate in these conditions."

Sai'em and Jak exchanged knowing looks over the withers of Denil's horse. For some reason, that irritated him. So they thought he wouldn't understand, did they? Their greater experience made them sudden allies against the clueless linguist, did it? Denil didn't notice that this was the first time they had communicated anything other than their mutual distrust, focusing instead on his resentment at what their look had implied.

"If anything happens, you stay between us," Jak said, looking at Denil significantly. "We'll try to hold them off and get us out of there. If they're as inexperienced as the innkeeper hinted, we shouldn't have too much trouble. He said that the other victims didn't have any seasoned fighters with them."

"I can defend myself," Denil said stiffly.

Sai'em winced. "I know. It's that you're, uh-"

"Valuable," Jak said. "If I lose you, I lose my last lead."

Denil caught the look of intense curiosity on Sai'em's face and remembered that Jak still hadn't told her why he needed a translator so urgently. He resolved to talk to Jak about that as soon as he had a chance. For a moment he hovered on the edge of losing his irritation with them before he remembered that if he let them get away with treating him this way once, it would just happen again and again.

"You taught me to defend myself," he said, looking at Sai'em and then turning to Jak. "And you admitted that I was pretty good."

"It only takes one lucky blow to kill you," Jak said bluntly. "I am not risking that."

"Neither am I," Sai'em added.

Denil looked between them, appraising their sincerity and trying to guess their motives. They both showed only genuine concern and Denil allowed himself to be convinced. He released the anger he had briefly felt and smiled.

"I overreacted," he said apologetically.

Jak rolled his eyes. "Y'think?"

Denil suppressed another surge of irritation. "Sorry."

Jak grunted and Sai'em offered a contrite smile.

"I know how that probably sounded," she said. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Same here," Jak said. "I got a little protective."

The way he said it made Denil think that Jak wasn't just worrying about his last lead to his son, but also about a person he was starting to care about. It chased away the last shred of annoyance and Denil had to work hard to keep a smile off his face.

* * *

Nothing had happened by early afternoon and Jak was beginning to wonder whether the innkeeper had been wrong about the gang still being in the area when he saw something on the road ahead. He squinted and was able to make out several black dots moving around a larger dark blob. He held up a hand and dropped back to ride next to Denil, waiting a moment for Sai'em to join them on Denil's other side before speaking.

"There's something on the road ahead," he said quietly. "I think it might be a barrier of some kind."

Sai'em frowned as she squinted down the road. "You think they'll demand a toll?"

Jak shrugged. "It's a classic scam."

The snow piled three feet deep on either side of the road made Jak reluctant to leave the road's protection. The horses would quickly be exhausted if they had to slog through that and there was no knowing what lurked beneath the pristine whiteness. An unexpected ditch or rabbit hole could easily lame a horse or, worse yet, break its leg. Jak didn't want to think about how difficult it would be to find anyone willing to sell a horse at this time of year if they needed a replacement.

"What are we going to do?" Denil asked.

Jak scanned the barrier and the milling bandits. "We could rush them, try to jump it."

Denil shook his head. "Even if we made it, could Iyani?"

Jak glanced back at the packhorse plodding patiently behind Sai'em, her leading rein attached to a hook on the elf's saddle. Iyani was good enough as a packhorse but he seriously doubted that she could successfully jump a five-foot high barrier. Although he could cope without the extra supplies and clothing strapped to her, Denil's pack of books could not be left behind. The scholar would need them to translate the text in Genta and that meant that Iyani had to come with them.

"I guess we're fighting then," Jak said with a sigh. "Get ready and stay alert."

He loosened his sword in its scabbard and saw Denil pulling the stubby length of his staff off his belt. He wasn't sure how useful that would be from the back of a horse, but if Jak and Sai'em could protect him then hopefully they wouldn't have to find out. Sai'em took her bow off her back and tested the string before pulling out an arrow and notching it, although she didn't draw. As they drew within earshot, one of the bandits stepped forward. There were only four horses between the twelve men and all of them were armed with an assortment of swords and axes.

In a belligerent voice, the spokesman shouted, "Halt!"

Jak and his companions kept walking steadily forwards.

"Pay the road tax or you won't pass," the spokesman continued.

He had a nasty scar running from his hairline to his chin, red and raw, that narrowly missed his eye. Jak took an immediate dislike to the man, not just because he was delaying them but also because he had an air of seedy unpleasantness that set his teeth on edge. It was the same feeling he had got from the child-molester years ago and Jak promised himself that if he were given any reason, the man would die.

"There is no tax on this road," Denil said in his quiet voice, so at odds with Scarface's crude, surly one. "It is free for anyone to use, granted so in treaties going back over a thousand years."

Scarface's grin was cruel. "The King's guards aren't here so it's up to us to make the law, and I say that you'll pay the tax. Your horses and those interesting packs should do nicely."

Jak hid his grin inside. If Scarface had had any intelligence, he would have known that the _nimoriel_ staff in Denil's hand was worth a small kingdom's treasury.

"We aren't paying your tax," was all that Jak said.

Scarface's grin widened. "I was sort of hoping you'd say that. Boys?"

Jak allowed a feral grin to cross his face as the bandits foolishly rushed towards him. A quiet twang sounded and a moment later the nearest bandit's throat sprouted arrow fletching. After that Jak was too busy fighting to notice more than a vague awareness of where his companions and the barrier were.

* * *

For the first couple of minutes of the fight Denil was left alone, giving him time to watch his companions. Sai'em was calmly picking off bandits with deadly accuracy until a particularly large thug on foot began swinging an axe at her. Denil lost track of that fight, distracted by a loud howl to his left. He turned in time to see Jak kicking a body off his sword. There wasn't time to feel sick at the sight; something tugged hard at his leg and he had to grab the saddle horn to stay on. He looked down into a cruelly grinning face.

Working on instinct, Denil kicked out and felt a crunch as his foot impacted solidly. The bandit fell back onto the road clutching at his face as blood ran through his fingers from his nose. There was no time after that to watch his companions. He extended his staff to half-length and used it as like a dulled sword to fend off blows from swords and axes. Another thief tried to pull him from his horse and Denil clubbed him over the head before he even had time to consider his actions.

Fighting had never been something that came naturally to Denil but, faced with a choice between killing and being killed, he did what he had to. It was a relief when he finally heard Jak's voice yelling for them to move out. He glanced at the barrier that the bandits had erected, saw that it was now no more than bits of wood strewn across the road, and took the chance that they had been offered. His horse was reacting skittishly to the unaccustomed smell of blood but he managed to haul her around and kick her into a run down the road. He felt a dull pain in his upper right arm as though he had been punched but ignored it to concentrate on staying on the horse.

Hooves clattered on the road behind and he risked a glance back to see Jak and Sai'em bent low over their horses as they galloped after him. There was no sign of pursuit but Denil didn't slow until his horse's breathing became laboured. He pulled back on the reins and the chestnut mare gratefully slowed to a walk.

"That was bracing," Jak remarked as he slowed to ride next to Denil.

Sai'em's horse looked like it could have run another few miles but the packhorse behind her was lathered and wild-eyed.

"Should we have stopped to help the injured?" Denil asked.

"No," Jak said. "They'll be fine. I saw a couple of lookouts riding towards them as we left. They'll take what's left and hopefully skedaddle if they have any sense."

"Oh," Denil said faintly.

Something cold and wet landed on his cheek and Denil looked up at the sky for a moment, puzzled about what it could be. His mind felt foggy and clouded and there was a loud buzzing sound that kept derailing his thoughts. A few more snowflakes fell from the grey clouds above.

"Uh, Denil?" Jak asked.

Denil shook his head to try to clear it. His thoughts kept whirling around his head without stopping long enough to examine. He took a couple of deep breaths and some of the fogginess cleared. The buzzing in his head wasn't just the rush of excitement and fear from the fight.

"A storm's coming," Denil said.

"Really?" Jak said sarcastically as a strong gust of wind blew snow into his face. "I would never have guessed."

"Commander," Sai'em said sharply, glaring at him.

The tips of Jak's ears turned pink.

"I'm sorry," Denil said, feeling slightly sick. "I missed it."

Jak shrugged. "It's not your fault. Next town is a couple of miles away - think we can make it?"

Denil patted his weary horse's neck. "We'll have to."

The horses were exhausted but the group managed to get them into a reluctant trot. Denil winced as an unwise movement made something tug painfully in his arm. He started to reach for the spot but found that he was still gripping his staff in the other hand. There was a patch of wetness staining the dark wood and his stomach lurched uncomfortably as he realised that it was blood. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Jak and Sai'em had both sheathed their swords and wondered how they had cleaned them. Denil's only choice was to wipe the sticky blood onto his riding breeches before he reduced the staff and hung it on his belt. That allowed him to take a better grip on his reins and ease the tension in his injured arm, which was now beginning to ache fiercely.

The horses seemed to instinctively know where the road was. The snow was falling so hard now that Denil could barely see the ground beneath him. Jak and Sai'em were only dark bulks riding next to him. The town appeared suddenly out of the thickly falling snow. A large, dark shape loomed above them and Denil's horse came to an abrupt halt. After a moment he worked out that it was the closed gates of the town's walls. That was unusual; so far, any walled towns had left their gates flung wide with only a minimal guard. When Denil remembered the bandits they had left a few miles behind, though, the barred gate didn't seem quite so strange.

Jak used the hilt of his dagger to knock loudly on the wooden gate until the keeper opened a small door next to it and peered through. After a short, heated discussion that involved a great deal of gesturing at the snow, the gatekeeper grudgingly opened the gates and allowed them through. Denil followed the barely visible dark shape of Jak and his horse, turning when they did and hoping he wouldn't lose them. He didn't notice that they were in an inn courtyard until they stopped and a door opened nearby, allowing light to spill out with the smell of roasting beef. Denil's stomach lurched uncomfortably again at the rich scent. He felt someone tap his thigh and barely stopped himself kicking out.

"Are you alright?" Jak asked.

The other man's hair was thickly dusted with snow and Denil distractedly noticed that it seemed to blend with the grey and silver already there.

"Denil?"

He shook his head and Jak's face swam dizzyingly in front of him,

"Do you need a hand?"

Denil slowly freed a foot from its stirrup and dismounted. As his feet touched the ground, his knees buckled and he stumbled until strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him up.

"I've got you," Jak said softly. "I guess you're not used to fights like that, huh?"

With an effort, Denil straightened and forced his legs to take his weight. "I guess not."

"We'd better get inside. Sai'em is getting some rooms."

Denil was reluctant to accept help but a couple of steps showed that his legs were still too shaky to support him properly so he allowed Jak to put an arm around his waist to support him. The common room seemed hot and noisy after the quiet snow outside and Denil squinted to shut out some of the light. He let Jak lead him to the counter where he had to lean for a moment while his friend counted money out of a pouch. Sai'em touched her cold fingers to his cheek and he flinched.

"You're as white as a sheet," she said.

"I'm fine," Denil said, surprised by how weak his voice sounded.

Sai'em's eyes darkened with concern and the buzzing in Denil's ears grew louder. Jak turned back to them and Denil frowned as he noticed a dark patch on the worn leather of his coat.

"Bleeding?" he asked.

Jak glanced down at his coat and raised a hand to touch the patch. "It's not mine."

The burning pain in Denil's arm suddenly stabbed sharply and he put a hand to it, surprised to find that his hand came away stained red.

"Me?" he asked, wondering why Jak had suddenly begun to sway.

He felt strong arms around his waist again and realised with an odd sense of disconnection that he was the one who was swaying.

"We'd better get him upstairs," Sai'em said.

It was difficult to focus on what was going on around him. The dizziness and buzzing made everything around him seem unreal, even the pain in his arm. He was vaguely aware of being helped up some stairs and down a corridor. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground and didn't seem to be doing what he told them. Then he was stopping and someone held him up while someone else unbuttoned his coat. He knew, somewhere, that Jak and Sai'em were talking but he couldn't make out what they were saying over the loud droning in his ears. The pain in his arm throbbed harder as someone peeled away his coat and jacket. Strong hands urged him down and he gratefully let his legs unlock.

The noise and dizziness receded and he became aware of lying on a bed. Denil blinked hard and forced his eyes to focus. Jak stood over him holding a knife but he couldn't be afraid and a moment later he felt the cool metal brush his arm as Jak carefully slit his shirtsleeve. Denil craned his neck to look down at his arm. The shirt was soaked with blood and as it fell away he could see a long cut still oozing blood running most of the length of his bicep.

"Sorry, guys, I didn't know," he apologised in a weak voice.

"Don't worry about it, we'll have you patched up in no time," Jak said reassuringly.

"You're putting a patch on it?" Denil's brain caught up with his mouth. "Sorry, blood-loss."

* * *

Jak grinned down at Denil, who was staring up with the glazed, fuzzy expression of a man who knows that he's not in control but doesn't want anyone else to know. Denil smiled vaguely and looked down at his bloodied arm again. It wasn't surprising that he was feeling dizzy. Judging by the blood soaking his coat, jacket and shirt, the scholar had been bleeding heavily for a while. Jak bent to examine the cut more closely. He carefully felt the edges, wincing as he heard Denil's sharp gasp, and decided that although it was long and deep there would be no lasting damage apart from a nasty scar. Sai'em shouldered him aside to examine Denil at that point so he took a seat on the edge of the bed, absently resting a hand on Denil's calf. Part of him wanted to curse the man for not letting them know that he was injured but the more rational part squashed that urge for the moment.

Sai'em straightened and looked at him. "It's going to require stitching."

Jak nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Can you sew?"

"Better than some of the quacks that have worked on me."

Sai'em walked over to the washstand and poured water into the basin to wash the blood off her hands. "Denil has a kit in his pack, or at least he used to. I'll find it - can you get some hot water?"

Jak squeezed Denil's leg. "Be back in a minute."

It didn't take long to get a basin of steaming water from the kitchen. The innkeeper offered to send someone for the town apothecary but Jak thanked him and declined as politely as he could. When he got back to the bedroom most of the contents of Denil's clothes pack were scattered over the bed and Sai'em was emptying a leather bag onto a small desk tucked in the corner. Rolls of bandages, small pots and a number of linen pouches tumbled out. Jak set the basin on the floor next to the bed and soaked one of the bandages in the hot water so he could clean the long gash. Denil opened his eyes and turned his head towards Jak. A brilliant smile lit up his face for a moment before it turned into a wince and a harsh gasp as Jak cleaned some of the dried blood away from the wound.

"Sorry," Jak apologised quietly.

Denil grimaced. "It's alright. Has to be done."

Jak dropped the bloody bandage on the floor and checked the cut again. It was still oozing blood slowly but there didn't seem to be any dirt in it.

"I'm going to have to sew this," Jak said.

"I know." A small smile tugged at the corners of Denil's mouth. "Don't let Sai'em do it - she couldn't sew to save her life."

Jak patted his shoulder. "I know you're not dying if you can make jokes."

"Who said I was joking?"

Sai'em handed Jak a threaded needle and moved to kneel on the bed next to Denil. "Is there anything you can take for the pain?"

"Nothing I want to take," Denil said. "The poppy-juice knocks me out for hours. Hate that stuff."

"This is going to hurt," Jak warned.

"Just get on with it and stop talking."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jak noted that Sai'em had taken a firm grip on Denil to hold him steady. Jak was more concerned with making sure that his stitches were as neat and even as he could make them. As the needle pierced Denil's skin the first time Jak heard a strangled grunt and look up. Denil was clenching his jaw tightly and nodded jerkily for Jak to continue. Occasional quiet grunts were the only indications that Denil was in pain. Jak found himself becoming more impressed with every minute at the scholar's white-faced determination. He carefully stitched the wound closed, making sure that the edges met neatly and evenly. There was a puckered scar on Jak's thigh from a half-trained healer who hadn't been as careful.

When the sewing was over Jak carefully wiped the blood away with a clean bandage.

"Almost finished now," he said reassuringly.

"Thank you," Denil said, his voice sounding stronger than it had a few minutes ago.

Sai'em handed Jak a small pot and he opened it to sniff cautiously. The sharp scent of marigolds mingled with something faintly spicy hit his nose. He smeared a dollop carefully over the wound to prevent infection and then wrapped and pinned a clean bandage around Denil's arm.

"It's done," Jak announced, straightening and rubbing his cramped neck. "That shirt is ruined, though."

Denil looked down at it. "A little soap, some thread - it'll be fine."

Sai'em knelt back on her heels and cleared her throat hesitantly. "Do you mind if I try something?"

Denil's brow furrowed in a frown. "What kind of something?"

"Something that might help you," Sai'em said.

If it had been Jak's choice he would have been yelling 'hell no'.

It wasn't his choice. Denil nodded and Sai'em leaned forwards to place both hands on Denil's chest over his heart. After a moment she huffed irritably and pulled a knife off her belt.

Fingering his ruined shirt and holding the knife she asked, "Do you mind?"

Denil sighed tiredly. "Might as well."

Sai'em carefully cut the shirt away and tossed it on the floor. It was a measure of Jak's concern for his friend that he barely paid any attention to the bare chest that was exposed. Instead, he watched as Sai'em again rested her hands over Denil's heart and closed her eyes. A faint light seemed to flicker beneath her hands and there was an electric hum in the air. A quiet gasp escaped Denil's lips and Jak's eyes were drawn to his face. The scholar's eyes were closed but a small amount of colour seemed to be returned to his cheeks. As Jak watched, the faint pain lines around his eyes and mouth smoothed out and his breathing deepened into the regular pattern of sleep.

Sai'em removed her hands from Denil's chest. "That's all I can do."

"What was that?" Jak whispered.

Sai'em shrugged and began gathering up discarded bandages and pots of salve. "I encouraged his body to heal a bit faster. It's not really my strong point but he should sleep for a few hours."

Over the past couple of weeks Jak had gained the impression that Sai'em didn't like to use her magic. He looked at the sleeping man on the bed and admitted that if there was anyone worth changing personal rules for, it was Denil.

* * *

When Denil woke up the room was in darkness. He blinked a couple of times before regretfully concluding that the darkness was complete. It had been late afternoon when they arrived at the inn so he guessed that he had been asleep for a few hours. He experimentally tried to sit up and the sudden pain in his arm persuaded him that getting injured during a fight with bandits hadn't been a dream. The last thing he could remember was Sai'em asking whether she could try something and after that his memory was blank. His head was clearer than it had been a few hours ago and the buzzing in his ears was now gone so he had to assume that she had done something magical. The thought made him vaguely queasy so he pushed it aside.

A careful inventory revealed a neat bandage on his arm, no shirt or boots and a blanket draped over his legs. Denil pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and silently wished for someone to come along and get the fire started. Some candles or lamps would be welcome, too.

Denil lay in the darkness for a while feeling increasingly bored and restless. He was again struggling to sit up when the bedroom door opened, allowing a widening sliver of yellow light in. Warms hands were suddenly on his back helping him up.

"You're meant to be asleep," Jak muttered.

"I woke up."

Denil felt Jak rearranging pillows behind him and then he was being urged back to rest propped against them. He involuntarily shivered when Jak's hands left his skin.

"Cold?"

It was a convenient excuse so Denil nodded, remembered that Jak might not be able to see him in the dim light, and mumbled, "Yes."

He heard Jak move across the room and then the distinctive sound of flint striking steel. Within a few minutes there was a respectable blaze going in the hearth and the room began to warm up. Denil watched Jak use a taper to light the room's lamps, his eyes irresistibly drawn to follow him even he knew it wasn't a good idea. When Jak blew the taper out and turned back to him, Denil dropped his eyes to the blanket and nervously tried to pull it higher. All that achieved was to pull the end off his feet. He heard a quiet chuckle from Jak's direction.

"Need a hand?"

Denil nodded.

"Scoot over," Jak instructed.

With a little help, Denil managed to get under the sheets and blankets and Jak folded the extra blanket and laid it on the end of the bed.

"Can you get me a shirt?" Denil asked.

Pulling a shirt over his head was painful but with some help he managed and lay back panting. He felt the bed dip as Jak sat on the edge and had to open his eyes. Jak was looking at him with poorly concealed annoyance.

"What's wrong?" Denil asked.

Jak's words were slow and carefully enunciated. "If you get injured, you tell someone. You do not wait until it's convenient or ignore it. You could have died out there today."

Taken aback, Denil had to try a couple of times before he could get any words out. "I'm sorry?"

"I hope you are."

"What?"

"You could have died."

"I didn't."

Jak glared. "No thanks to you. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about running - an idea, by the way, that was yours. Then there was the storm. There wasn't time to think about anything else."

"All you had to do was say, 'I think I'm hurt'."

"I didn't notice it!"

"How could you not notice a big bleeding gash on your arm?"

"I don't know!"

Jak ran a hand through his hair as he visibly tried to calm down. Denil couldn't help noting that the dishevelled look was incredibly attractive. He mentally kicked himself for losing focus during an argument.

"I'm sorry," Jak said. "You just...scared me. You're important. I need you, and I could have lost you."

"I'll help you to find your son," Denil said, swallowing something that felt a lot like hurt. "I'm sorry that I scared you."

Jak shrugged and stood up. "Just say something if it happens again."

"I will." As Jak turned away, Denil remember the promise he had made to himself. "Would you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Tell Sai'em why we're doing this."

"I made a promise not to."

"You can trust her." Denil offered a hopeful smile. "She won't tell the wizards that you told her. It would help, though. She knows you're not telling her the whole truth and that makes her suspicious of your motives. Wizards don't have a great reputation and, as far she's concerned, you're working for them."

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

"I'll get you something to eat," Jak said gruffly. At the door he paused and, without turning around, said, "I wasn't just worried about my son."

Then he was gone, leaving Denil to stare at the door while he absorbed the words. After a few breathless moments, a smile slowly spread across Denil's face.

* * *

"How much further is it to Genta?" Denil asked as he watched Jak move around the room preparing for bed.

He knew that he was feeling better than he should do after the amount of blood he had lost. Sai'em had obviously done something to him. She had come in to check on him while he was eating soup with Jak and seemed pleased. He was slightly worried that she had used magic after years of telling him that she didn't like to, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Denil had still been slightly light-headed when Jak helped him down the corridor to the privy but it was nowhere close to what he had been feeling earlier. He felt awake and oddly restless now.

Jak's voice dragged him out of his musings. "Depending on the weather it should only be another few days, maybe a week. We'll leave the North Road at the border and take the Genta Road, It won't be quite so easy for the horses and that's going to slow us down."

"We've been pretty lucky so far," Denil commented.

Jak paused in the act of folding a shirt and raised an eyebrow. "Lucky?"

A sharp twinge in his arm reminded Denil that they hadn't come through entirely unscathed. "Lucky with the conditions."

Shrugging, Jak finished folding the shirt. "I guess so. If you don't count two major blizzards in two weeks."

"There have been storm fronts piled up in front of us the whole way. We've been lucky not to lose more days than we have."

"Whatever the hell those wizards were up to, I hope it was worth it," Jak said irritably.

He moved around the room turning the lamps down until only the one above the bed provided any light and threw a couple of logs onto the crackling fire. Denil ignored the slight flutter in his stomach as Jak slid into bed next to him. It was probably just a side effect of the blood loss.

"How's your arm?" Jak asked, turning on his side to face Denil.

The scholar carefully slid down so that he was lying flat and turned his head towards Jak. "It's fine."

"Really?"

"Actually no, but if I keep telling myself that it's fine then eventually it will be."

"Interesting philosophy."

"It's better than taking poppy-juice and being out for hours."

"You really don't like that stuff, do you?"

"It's easy to get addicted to it. I watched one of my teachers go through that and it put me off for life."

"I can understand that," Jak said softly.

Denil took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to change the subject. "Why did you leave Wolf Company?"

"What?"

"I'm curious. You sounded as though you missed it when you talked about it, so why did you leave?"

"Why are you so curious about me?"

Denil winced self-consciously. "I don't know. I guess that I like to know something about the person I'm sharing a bed with. You know everything there is to know about me-"

"I hardly think that. I could probably know you for a hundred years and still get surprised."

It suddenly became difficult to breathe and Denil had to swallow twice before he could get his voice to work again. Jak looked uncharacteristically shy, as though he had let something slip that he hadn't meant to and wasn't sure how Denil would react.

"That's - that's probably the nicest compliment anyone's ever given me," Denil said eventually.

"It wasn't really a compliment."

The gruff voice and the way Jak's eyes refused to meet his told Denil that it probably was.

"Wolf Company?" he prompted when Jak didn't look like he would say anything more.

"Wolf Company," Jak repeated. "I left when I met my wife."

There was an awful moment when Denil thought his heart had stopped and someone had punched him in the gut. Wife? Jak was married? Somehow that possibility had never entered Denil's mind. As his heart restarted and his mind began processing again, Denil had to ask himself why he hadn't thought about Charry's mother before. Wishful thinking? Jak had a son so obviously there had to have been a woman. Denil had been so caught up in his own feelings that he hadn't even thought about that.

"Your wife?" he asked weakly.

There was a long pause before Jak answered. "My wife. She died a few months after Charry was born."

A wave of sick guilt flooded through Denil as he realised that, for just a moment, he had been glad that the faceless woman Jak had married was dead. He'd never thought of himself as malicious or jealous before. It was unsettling to find out that he could be.

Denil swallow and reminded himself that this was about Jak, not him, and Jak had obviously cared about the woman enough to marry her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's not your fault," Jak said flatly.

"I meant that I know what it's like to lose someone like that," he explained. "The pain never goes away."

A faint frown furrowed Jak's brown. "We weren't like you and Sharra. I cared about Anaya, but I wasn't in love with her. It was just convenient for both of us."

"You didn't love her?"

"Not the way that you loved Sharra."

"Oh," Denil said, hoping he didn't sound as disapproving as he thought he did.

"People get married for all sorts of reasons, not just because they're in love."

Denil shot Jak a withering look. "I'm not naïve. I know that."

"You just didn't expect that from me?"

"No, I didn't," Denil said honestly.

"I think I'm flattered."

He shrugged awkwardly.

"It probably isn't what you're imagining," Jak said.

"How do you know what I'm imagining?"

Jak fixed him with a knowing look. "You think I got her pregnant and had to marry her to save her reputation, or something equally melodramatic."

The flush that spread across his face probably told Jak how accurate he had been. Denil nodded anyway.

"That's not too far off, except that she was already pregnant when we met." There was something in Jak's eyes that said he was surprised to be confessing this. "I was thinking about leaving the Company anyway. I just couldn't work out what else I wanted to do. There were younger guys coming up who were faster and better than me." He held up a hand to still Denil's protests. "A mercenary is only successful if he gets to spend his profits. Do you know how many guys die each year? I'd made my money, done my thing, and it was time to let the younger guys take over. I didn't fancy opening an inn like a lot of old mercs or commanding my own company and I didn't have the contacts to get a job as a weapons-master on a fancy estate. Then along came Anaya and I decided that here was a chance to do something really important."

"And she went along with it?"

Jak shrugged. "She needed protection. I always figured that something bad had happened in her past - she was always so skittish around me. Maybe rape or a bad marriage, but she didn't talk and I didn't ask. I got my profits and sold my bond. Anaya got some bee in her bonnet about Genta so we moved down, I got us a house and a job with the city watch so I didn't get bored."

Denil gave him a small grin. "I can't see you as a man of leisure."

Jak snorted. "I tried it. Lasted about a week before I had to find something to do. I got so restless, Anaya actually yelled at me. She was always so gentle, almost frightened. It scared the crap out of me if she got mad enough to stand up to me."

"Poor thing." After just a small dose of Jak's protectiveness, Denil could sympathise with a woman who sounded as though she would have provoked Jak's mother-hen instincts to even higher levels. "You probably made her life hell."

"She could be pretty terrifying when she got mad, but it took a lot to get past her fear of everyone around her."

"Was she happy?"

"I don't know. On reflection, probably not." A sad look tinged with guilt crossed Jak's face. "I got so caught up with being a good father to Charry that I didn't notice that there was something wrong with Anaya."

"What happened?" Denil asked gently, ready to back off the moment Jak seemed unwilling to answer.

"I honestly don't know. She'd always been skittish and nervous but it seemed to get worse after Charry was born. Sometimes she'd stay awake all night watching him. She'd panic if he were out of her sight for a moment. There was a day when she wouldn't rest until I'd put extra locks on all the doors and windows. One minute she'd be fine and next she'd pick Charry up and start crying. I thought it was just new mother nerves. Some women get like that after a birth."

"But it wasn't." It was a statement, not a question.

"No. A few months after Charry's birth she went out walking in a blizzard and never came back. We found her body in a ditch outside the city when spring came. I didn't notice that she'd gone until it was too late."

"I'm sorry."

"You already said that once."

"I mean it." It was difficult to reach Jak's arm from the position he was in but Denil managed to grasp his wrist and squeeze lightly before releasing it. "Losing anyone is hard, even if you aren't in love with them."

"Thanks."

There was uncomfortable silence for a while before Jak let out a deep sigh.

"You're the only person who knows about Charry," he said.

Denil understood immediately. "I won't tell him."

"Thanks. It's probably the kind of thing that should come from me."

"You love him a lot."

"He's not my flesh and blood but in every other way he's my son."

"Sharra and I never really talked about children," Denil said. "We always seemed to have other things we needed to do."

"You were young. I didn't think about kids when I was that age, either."

Denil grinned.

"What?" Jak asked suspiciously.

"I'm trying to picture you in your twenties."

"That's funny?"

Denil's grin widened. "It's difficult. What colour was your hair?"

A comically disgusted expression appeared on Jak's face. "It was and is brown."

"Uh-huh."

"There is too much scepticism in your voice."

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

* * *

The storm was still whistling furiously around the inn the next morning, making it impossible to even contemplate going anywhere. Denil had been anticipating spending a miserable day on horseback, probably strapped on in case he passed out. Instead, after some half-hearted protests, he was spending the morning reading in bed. Apparently, he could spend the afternoon playing stones in the taproom quietly if he was good enough. Denil was beginning to think that Jak took protectiveness a bit too far.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Sai'em peeked around it. "Hey."

Denil put his book down and smiled. "Hey."

Sai'em stepped into the room and hesitated by the door. "I'm not disturbing you, am I? I can come back if you were sleeping or, uh, something."

Denil beckoned her in. "No, it's fine. I wasn't doing anything important. In fact, I've been wondering whether you were going to come and see me."

A wide smile lit up the elf's face as she sat on the end of the bed. "You're looking a lot better."

"Yeah, about that . . ." Denil trailed off meaningfully and watched a sheepish blush tinge Sai'em's normally pale cheeks. "I thought as much. Was I really that bad?"

"No, you were going to be fine anyway," Sai'em said quickly. "I just thought it might be a good idea if I hurried things along a bit."

"Oh?"

"You and Jak have been setting such a pace, I figured that whatever you're doing in Genta must be urgent. If it's urgent to you then it's urgent to me." Sai'em paused before adding, "Jak explained it all to me this morning."

"He did?"

She nodded. "It explains a lot."

"Every day we save out here is important."

"I know."

"Do you trust him now?"

Sai'em stared intently at the blanket for a long moment before she raised her eyes to meet Denil's. "I don't think he's planning to sell you out to the wizards."

"But?"

"I still think that he wants to get into your breeches."

It was no use pretending that he didn't understand her. Denil could feel his face flushing, always a giveaway, and he had to try a couple of times before he could get his voice to work.

"Jak?" he said, his voice cracking. "Jak wants-"

"You," Sai'em finished for him. "He wants you. It's there in every look he gives you. Haven't you noticed?"

Dumbly, Denil shook his head.

"You're probably the only person who hasn't."

"I was more worried about my feelings, not his," he said helplessly.

"Is this the thing you wouldn't talk to me about?"

"Uh-"

"I thought he was making unwanted advances and you were trying to handle it yourself."

"He hasn't made any advances."

Sai'em's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "And you want him to?"

"I don't know." Denil closed his eyes. "I'm confused."

"About?"

It was easier if he didn't have to look at her. "Me. Sharra. Jak. Feelings."

A cool hand closed over his and Denil opened his eyes to find Sai'em's only inches away. There was no condemnation or anger there, only gentle empathy.

"I've watched you close down over the past few years," she said softly. "You stopped living. I miss her, too, but life has to go on."

"I wanted it to stop when she died."

"I know, but it didn't and one day you need to let people in again."

Denil sighed. "I worked that out a few days ago. It's just so complicated and confusing. Everything was so simple with Sharra."

"You were young when you met her - these things usually are simpler when you're young," Sai'em said. "There's nothing wrong with being attracted to a man. Some people can be attracted to men and women."

He shot her a dirty look. "That part isn't the confusing part. I'm a scholar studying ancient texts - it's a little late to explain the facts of life to me."

Sai'em's grin was slightly sheepish. "Sorry, I had that coming."

"Sometimes you forget that I'm not fifteen anymore."

"You sometimes forget that I'm your friend as well as Sharra's. There's no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed about talking to me about these things."

They were silent for a while as Denil tried to absorb everything. He felt slightly lighter for talking about it, even if he still felt just as confused.

"I didn't expect this," he said eventually.

"No one ever does."

"He really wants me?"

"No doubt about it."

"You're sure? Sometimes you can misinterpret things. It could just be a human-elf cultural difference."

"I checked at a couple of inns. All the cooks and stable boys agreed."

"Oh."

"What are you going to do?" Sai'em asked curiously.

"I really don't know," he replied. "I need to think about it."

Sai'em climbed off the bed and gave him a reassuring smile. "Do you know what Sharra once said about you?"

"I can guess."

"She said that sometimes you over think things that should be simple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

The promised game of stones took Denil's mind off his conversation with Sai'em for a while but that respite didn't last. The possibility that Jak might be attracted to him added a new dimension to his feelings. Every time he tried to dismiss it his mind refused. He watched Jak as covertly as he could, trying to see whatever it was that Sai'em had seen. Did that touch last too long? Was it unusual to hold someone's eyes that way?

Everything he said to Jak made him nervous. Was he leading Jak on? Did he want to?

He had no real frame of reference. Sai'em and Sharra had been the only really close friends he'd ever had, so how was he supposed to know whether his friendship with Jak was normal?

The thoughts and questions were still chasing each other across his mind when Jak slid into bed hours later. Denil had pleaded exhaustion, not a complete lie, and gone to bed early so he could think. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Jak's presence until Jak nudged him and the unexpected touch made him almost jump out of his skin.

"What's wrong?" Jak asked.

"Nothing," Denil said, amazed by how calm his voice sounded.

"You've been acting weird all day. Something is wrong," Jak insisted.

"It's nothing."

"So there is something."

"No."

For a moment Jak's eyes searched Denil's face and then he shrugged. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

Jak rolled to face the wall. Denil stared at Jak's tense shoulders for a while. He still wanted to believe that Sai'em was wrong and this was another elf-human cultural difference. Sai'em's background sometimes caused her to read human body language incorrectly or miss it altogether. If she hadn't asked for outside confirmation then he would have easily believed that. The problem was that other people could also see it. Where did that leave him?

Confused, was the only answer he could come up with. He was no closer to working out what his feelings meant or what he wanted them to mean. Having Jak's feelings added to the mix only made the uncertainty worse.

Denil jumped again when Jak suddenly rolled over and fixed him with a hard stare. "What's wrong?"

Denil gulped and tried to speak but the words froze in his throat.

"You're so tense that you're practically vibrating," Jak continued. "I can't sleep if you're going to do that, so spill."

"It's - it's nothing," Denil managed to get out. "Just something Sai'em told me."

"And?"

"And nothing. It's my problem."

"It's not your problem when it's keeping me awake," Jak said, his eyes glittering in the lamplight.

Denil tried to think up something to tell Jak, anything but the truth, but nothing came.

"Well?"

"Sai'em thinks that you're attracted to me," Denil confessed quietly, cursing himself even as he said it.

There was no reply but there was also no anger in Jak's eyes, which gave Denil the courage to ask, "Are you?"

"Would it be a problem if I was?" Jak asked.

"Are you?" Denil repeated.

Jak sighed and some of the irritation faded from his eyes. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"That depends."

"On?"

This was the moment when Denil knew he could walk away with no repercussions. He sensed that if he asked him to, Jak would bury this conversation as though it had never happened. They could go back to being friends and neither of them would ever talk about this night again. A part of Denil was tempted to do exactly that, frightened of what would happen if this went any further.

But Denil had never allowed himself to be afraid of the unknown and there was a larger part of him that wanted to find out what his feelings could mean. The thought of running away and never knowing what this could be left an empty, aching feeling inside.

Jak gently touched his cheek and Denil leaned into the contact. "Denil?"

"I thought that one day I'd meet someone who would make me feel the way Sharra did," he said softly. "I never imagined meeting someone who would confuse me the way you have."

"I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not," Jak said with a small smile. "You can never feel the same way about two people."

"Everything about you is too complicated. I like you, I think you're a good friend and you attract me in a way that I've never felt before," Denil said. "I don't know what that all means."

"It doesn't have to mean anything."

"I want it to mean something."

"We're friends and we're attracted to each other," Jak said. "We could just see where that goes."

"That sounds a bit empty," Denil said dubiously.

"It doesn't have to be. We can make it whatever feels right to us."

There was a long silence while Denil searched Jak's eyes, trying to work out what the other man wanted and felt.

"You weren't going to say anything, were you?" he asked eventually.

Jak shook his head. "Didn't plan to."

"Why?"

"I don't get involved with people I need to work with," Jak said. "It's sort of a personal code. Getting involved with the person who might be the only lead in finding my son...well, it wasn't a plan I felt comfortable with."

"So why...?"

Jak shrugged uncomfortably but didn't explain.

Denil covered Jak's hand with his and dragged it down to hold it tightly to his chest. "If this doesn't work out, I won't regret anything. We can stay friends and I'll help you to find your son no matter what happens."

Jak's eyes softened. "Thank you."

There was an awkward silence.

"What do we do now?" Denil asked.

Jak's grin was lopsided. "Whatever we want."

Shakily, Denil released Jak's hand and reached out to touch his face. He traced the contours and ran a curious thumb over Jak's scarred eyebrow. The wound in his arm ached and pulled but he ignored it, concentrating on the feel of Jak's skin under his fingertips instead.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Is that-"

Denil stopped when Jak laid a finger over his lips.

"Some men have a problem with it," Jak said, shifting closer, "but I don't."

Warm breath caressed Denil's cheek. Jak's eyes were only inches away and he could read hunger there that was almost frightening in its intensity. He almost protested that this was a mistake, he had been wrong, but that thought was cut off when Jak's lips touched his. Denil closed his eyes and savoured the kiss, tasting Jak on his lips and marvelling at how pale his imagination had been compared to reality. Jak's mouth was softer than he had guessed it would be. It was different from kissing Sharra but it was a difference that Denil quickly decided he liked. When Jak's tongue sought entrance he gladly gave it and abandoned himself to the sensations Jak's hands and mouth were eliciting. Jak teased and tasted and Denil returned everything he received with passion. It wasn't a perfect kiss; teeth clashed and their noses kept getting in the way but the occasional huffs of laughter only added to the moment. Denil was grinning when they eventually pulled apart.

"I've been wondering what that would be like for days," Jak said.

Denil coloured self-consciously. "And?"

Jak suddenly wrapped his arms around Denil's waist and rolled onto his back, taking Denil with him to sprawl on top of him.

"I want to kiss you again but I don't want to hurt you if I get carried away," Jak explained solemnly, touching Denil's bandaged arm lightly.

In a strange way, Denil knew that was both an answer and a compliment. Jak's slow grin sent heat rushing through his body to settle low in his belly. The hand that crept up his back to his neck to pull him into another kiss wasn't needed because he was already there.

* * *

Jak usually went straight from asleep to awake without a sleepy half-awake stage. It was a habit left over from his years as a mercenary where not doing so could get him killed if there was a night attack on the camp. That was why he was surprised to find that he had been sleepily lying in bed, only half aware of his surroundings, for a long time before he really woke up. As his mind cleared and woke up properly that feeling of sleepy satiation tried to drag him under again. He forced his eyes open and raised a hand to rub at them. With the decision to wake up made, the last of the fogginess in his mind dissipated and he began to take in his surroundings.

He turned his head to look out of the window. The sky was dark and a few stars still twinkled but his internal clock told him that dawn was not far off. A few snowflakes drifted lazily past the window but the wind was no longer whistling around the inn. They would be able to get back on the road today providing Denil was sufficiently recovered from his injury.

Jak craned his head to look at Denil. The scholar was draped over him with his head on Jak's shoulder and one leg slung across Jak's thighs. Jak couldn't see Denil's face and he was momentarily tempted to wake him just so that he could. Nothing in Denil's responses last night implied that he would regret anything today, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. Jak pushed that thought away by replaying Denil's reassurances the night before. An entire lifetime of following a personal code of never getting involved with anyone he needed to work with had been changed by one softly worded promise.

Jak lightly stroked Denil's bare back as he considered the situation. Denil was an enthusiastic lover who, although new to male loving, had quickly adjusted to the differences. Between his injury and their need to be able to sit in the saddle they hadn't been able to do anything fancy, but Jak felt more complete than he had in years. It had been fun, passionate sex and Jak could feel himself becoming aroused at just the memory.

It had been more than just good sex, though. Jak hadn't felt this kind of emotional connection with a bedmate before. There were other feelings mingling with the post-coital satisfaction that threatened to make everything different. He had been right a few days ago; it wouldn't take much to push this attraction over the edge into something a lot bigger, and Jak had a feeling that last night had put him a step closer to that edge.

He sighed quietly and pushed those worrying thoughts away. There were far more important things at stake right now. He could consider where this relationship might be going when he had his son back. For now he needed to wake Denil and get out on the road.

The scholar was always difficult to wake and Jak considered going downstairs to get some tea first before dismissing the idea as foolish and cowardly. Instead, he raised his free hand and nudged Denil's chin upwards so he could see his face. There was a soft smile on Denil's lips even though his face was still relaxed in sleep. Jak tried quietly calling his name a couple of times and when that didn't work he shook Denil's shoulder. A puzzled frown crossed Denil's face and he muttered something incoherent. Jak shook his shoulder again and this time was rewarded with sleepy blue eyes opening.

"Hmm?" Denil sighed.

"Time to get up," Jak said. "How do you feel?"

Denil rolled off Jak and onto his back to stretch. Jak followed the movement with his eyes, unashamedly enjoying the rippling muscles in his bare chest and arms. There was a cat-like grace to Denil's stretching and he even emitted a low purr of satisfaction until a wince crossed his face and he stopped stretching to touch a finger to the white bandage on his arm.

"This still aches a little," he said.

Jak sat up and put a hand on the bandage, raising his eyebrow in enquiry. Denil nodded his assent and Jak carefully unwound the linen to examine the wound. The gash was several inches long, angling down and across his bicep, but the stitches still held it together despite last night's exertions. Reassuringly, the skin around it was cool to the touch and there were no angry red streaks to imply that the wound was infected.

"How bad is it?" Denil asked.

"It's healing nicely," Jak said. "We'll need to put a fresh bandage on and some more salve before we leave, but it looks good. It's going to take some time to heal properly, even with Sai'em's help, but the scar shouldn't be too bad. Scars can be attractive, you know."

Denil raised an eyebrow.

"On the right people," Jak added, "and in the right places. You'll look a little dangerous and unpredictable."

"Thank you, I think."

They regarded each other in silence for a while before Jak asked, "Are you going to be alright to ride today?"

Denil nodded.

Jak fixed him with a hard glare. "If you feel light-headed or ill in any way, tell someone. You don't gain points for stubbornness."

"I'll be fine," Denil insisted.

"Tell someone."

"I will."

"Good." Jak nodded to the window where the sky was just beginning to lighten in false dawn. "We should get moving."

"We're not talking about last night then?" Denil asked, also sitting up and keeping the blankets firmly above waist level.

Jak shrugged. "I think we said everything that needs saying."

"Oh."

There seemed to be disappointment in Denil's eyes and voice and Jak spent a moment wracking his brain for a reason why. It came in a flash of inspiration and he grinned.

"This isn't a one night thing," he said before hooking his hand behind Denil's head and pulling him into a deep kiss.

They were balanced precariously and as soon as Denil opened his mouth to allow Jak in, all balance failed and Jak tumbled into his back. Denil followed, kissing aggressively, and they spent a few pleasurable minutes enjoying the contact. Jak eventually tore his mouth away and rested his forehead in the hollow of Denil's throat.

"Clothes. Now," he said through gritted teeth.

Denil nibbled on his earlobe before rolling off and taking a deep breath. "You first."

Jak glared at his new lover before rolling out of the bed and padding naked to the packs in the corner. A shirt hit him in the back of his head and he turned back to the bed.

"Cover yourself before I stop resisting temptation," Denil ordered.

* * *

Occasional flakes of snow were still falling and it was still freezing, but Denil ignored the weather with ease. Thinking about last night was taking up all his attention. At first, it had been strange to kiss and caress someone as strong as he was. Jak was all hard planes and muscles where Sharra had been soft. His lightly furred chest had felt odd against Denil's skin. That hadn't last for long; Denil had quickly discovered that he liked those differences. It had been fun to explore Jak's body, finding out what made him laugh or gasp and shiver. Jak had been just as curious and more patient than Denil had expected. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but everything had been better than he could have imagined. Jak was a fierce and passionate lover, unashamed of his body and confident in ways Denil had never been. He was also tender and caring, a side that didn't surprise Denil even thought he'd only know the man for a couple of weeks, and Jak had been careful not to do anything that might hurt either of them. Shifting slightly in his saddle, Denil decided that he was grateful for that.

Around mid-morning he was pulled out of his thoughts when Sai'em moved up to ride beside him and greeted him with a soft, "Hey."

Denil smiled at her and returned the greeting.

"Nice morning," Sai'em said, a grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Denil glanced at the grey sky and falling snow. "Yes, it is."

Sai'em allowed the grin to spread over her face. "I thought so."

"Uh, what?" Denil asked, not following her expressions at all.

"It's all over your face."

"What is?"

Sai'em rolled her eyes and lowered her voice. "You and Jak. You talked to him."

Denil was embarrassed to realise that he was blushing. "Yes, we talked."

"From the look on your face, it must have been a good talk."

It was easier not to answer; every reply Denil could think of basically involved telling Sai'em to mind her own business with varying degrees of politeness.

"I won't pry any further," Sai'em said. "Just tell me one thing - do you regret it?"

That was easy to answer. "No."

Sai'em smiled. "That's all I needed to know."

The warmth inside kept him going throughout the long day, even though they had to ride past sunset before finding an inn. They ate supper in the taproom and Denil's stomach tightened with anticipation as they lingered over tankards of beer. He felt self-conscious about announcing that he was tired with Sai'em's eyes on him so it was a relief when Jak stretched and yawned.

"I'm going to call it a night," Jak announced. "Denil?"

"I'm a little tired too," Denil said, ignoring Sai'em's knowing look.

He followed Jak to their bedroom and slid the bolt on the door across as soon as it closed. Jak was standing behind him when he turned around so they ended up standing chest to chest.

"I hope you were lying about being tired," Denil said, keeping his hands at his sides.

Jak rested his hands on Denil's hips and pulled him forward. Their groins ground together and Denil grinned as he felt how aroused Jak already was.

"I'm not tired yet," Jak said with an answering grin.

Denil reached up and gently traced Jak's scarred eyebrow before sliding his hand around to pull Jak into a kiss. The first attempt was clumsy and they bashed noses because Denil wasn't used to kissing someone the same height as him.

Jak's hands came up to frame his face. "Try again?"

Denil nodded and allowed Jak to angle the kiss. This time it was much better and he sighed and wrapped himself around Jak. They slowly stumbled back until Jak's knees hit the edge of the bed and they fell onto it still kissing hungrily.

* * *

They left the North Road two days later and the journey became tougher. A few carts had packed the snow down but the occasional falls of fresh snow hid ice patches. They were forced to go more carefully and sometimes dismount and lead the horses or risk laming them. Progress was much slower, the road was difficult to follow and they had to ride far into the night to find an inn on a couple of occasions. The lowest point came when they had to sleep on the taproom floor one night. Icy drafts seemed to come in from everywhere and the logs that the innkeeper grudgingly gave them for the fire ran out half way through the night. Denil pushed aside all his reservations about public affection and clung as close as he could to Jak under their thin covering of blankets and cloaks. Jak seemed equally miserable, shivering violently each time an icy gust hit them. Sai'em wrapped herself in her cloak and refused all their entreaties to join their huddle, giving Denil knowing looks that made him flush each time they tried until he slapped a hand over Jak's mouth and ordered him to leave her alone. He began to develop an intense envy of Sai'em's ice elf blood and indifference to cold.

Even when they had a bed to themselves, there were nights when Jak and Denil were just too tired for sex. On those nights, Denil discovered that spooning up in front of Jak was almost as warming and relaxing as sex. He wasn't surprised to find that memories of making love with Jak were one of the best ways to keep warm on the most miserable days on the road.

Denil could sense the growing frustration in Jak at their slow pace. With each day that passed, Jak became quieter and more irritable, to the point of yelling at Denil one night when the moon was high in the sky and they were passing the third inn since sunset. He had taken a deep breath and apologised to Denil before reluctantly agreeing that it would be a good idea to rest. That night, Jak had been almost despairing when they made love and Denil held him tightly afterwards, pretending to ignore the silent tears streaming down Jak's face.

Denil could see the guilt in Jak's eyes and he knew the man well enough now to guess its source. He could even understand it; what man wouldn't feel guilty for finding a lover on a mission to save his son?

That was why it was with a mixture of relief and trepidation that Denil crested a hill on the twenty-fifth day out of Eto and looked down on a squat, dark city below.

Jak pulled up beside him and gestured towards it. "Welcome to Genta."


	2. Chapter 2

Serpent in the Shadows: Part Two  
by Selenay

Jak surveyed the town in the valley below, wondering why he had never noticed before how ugly it was. The buildings were square and forbidding. There was a clear delineation between the wizards' compound and the rest of the town, but that only seemed to highlight how unappealing both sections were. Even the town's two temples were square and functional and the only areas of greenery were in the gardens of the wealthier houses. He realised that he was unconsciously comparing it with Eto's graceful beauty and grimaced. The aesthetics of where he lived had never mattered before. Hell, the town he lived in had never mattered before, so why was he suddenly caring about Genta's relative ugliness?

He dismissed the thought and turned back to his companions. Denil looked exhausted but he hadn't complained once, even though Jak knew that he had been pushing harder than he had any right to. The scholar had already been injured on this trip and he probably should have spent several days recuperating from the blood loss. Instead he had followed Jak onto the road after only a day and ridden harder and longer than most men would in prime condition. Jak had cut out Denil's stitches last night and the wound was healing well, leaving only a long line of raw, pink new flesh that would eventually fade into a neat scar. When he had finished, Denil had conducted a thorough inventory of Jak's scars and concluded that his own could have been a lot worse. The memory of that inventory sent a rush of heat through Jak's body that he pushed away with difficulty.

Jak turned his attention to Sai'em and frowned. From the tips of her pointed ears to the toes of her pristine white boots, she was every inch an elf. Walking into Genta with Denil would be easy. Walking into the town with an elf would be much harder to explain and the wizards would know about her before they were ten feet past the gates. Even with her hood up, Sai'em's immaculate white clothes and horse would be noted and the embroidery on her jacket and breeches was obviously elvish. Rumours about her would be flying within a few hours and Jak wanted to keep her presence quiet for now.

"Are we going?" Sai'em asked.

Jak shook himself, realising that he had been staring at her for a few minutes. "Sorry, I was miles away." He frowned again. "Do you have anything a little less...clean with you?"

"Less clean?" she asked with a puzzled frown.

"Less white," he amended. "I'm not sure that I want to announce your presence yet, but you're a little hard to hide, what with the ears and the clothes and all."

"You want to disguise me," Sai'em said in a flat voice.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Jak shrugged. "I'm not really sure yet. How about calling you an extra card up my sleeve? It seems like a good idea."

Sai'em didn't look entirely convinced but she nodded anyway. "Have you guys got anything I can borrow?"

Between Jak and Denil, they managed to find clothes that fitted as long as nobody looked at her too carefully and she stayed mounted. The cloak she borrowed from Denil dragged on the floor and a tightly cinched belt held up her breeches. Her boots were more of a problem and she ended up in a pair of light indoor ankle boots that had been hiding in the bottom of Denil's pack of books. They were too large and would be ruined if she walked more than a few steps in the snow so Denil helped her mount and Jak promised to keep her up there if he could.

Jak looked uncertainly at the horse. "Is there any way to make her a little less impressive?"

Sai'em patted the horse's neck. "I'm not sure that Mya will appreciate it."

"But there is a way," he confirmed.

The elf nodded and bent to whisper in Mya's ear. Jak decided that it had to be coincidence that the horse whickered and tossed her head just then, forcing Sai'em to straighten and shoot him an aggrieved glare. He made a shooing motion and Sai'em closed her eyes and put her hands on Mya's neck. A moment later a faint glow appeared around her hands and after a few breaths the horse shivered. When she settled, her coat had changed from pure white to pale tan.

Sai'em opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Is this better?"

"It'll do," Jak conceded.

He remounted and nudged his horse into a trot. Denil and Sai'em followed and Jak gestured for the elf to raise her hood. It only took a few minutes to reach the town gates. He slowed to a walk and stopped in front of the guard huddled in thick furs, snoring in his chair. The guard had untidy stubble on his chin, the smell of stale sweat rose off him in waves and the Watch badge pinned to his furs was tarnished. Jak snorted his disgust. He'd only been gone for a few weeks and his men had lost all pretence at discipline.

"Constable Harrak," he barked. "Stand to attention!"

The watchman snorted and opened his eyes. A moment later his chair was lying on the ground and he had slipped on the ice and landed on his rear. He stared up at Jak, stammering and struggling to stand.

"Commander, sir," he panted as he finally rose. "I didn't know...sir, I was just-"

"I can see what you were 'just'," Jak said harshly. "Where are the rest of your men?"

Gate duty was supposed to be conducted in four man teams. Two would stand at the gate checking papers and the other two would be in the small hut just inside the walls to register all visitors to the city. In weather like this they would swap out every hour. One scruffy, snoring guard in a chair went against every order Jak had ever given regarding gate duty.

Harrak snapped into something approximating attention. "They're in the Broken Bucket, sir. Do you want me to fetch them?"

"And leave the gate completely unmanned? No, I don't want you to fetch them. You will check us in and then you will send a message to the Watch house to request replacements. You and your friends are going to be on sewer duty for a month." Jak grinned as he watched the colour drain from Harrak's face. "If you've bathed and shaved by the time I next see you, I might consider halving that."

Harrak swallowed and saluted. "Yes, sir. I'll do that, sir."

"Good man." Jak gestured to his companions. "Now, would you register my friends?"

Jak dismounted and Harrak scurried to lead him to the hut. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of sour wine, mould and dirty socks.

"You might want to clean this place, too," Jak said, his tone making it closer to an order than a suggestion.

"Yes, sir," Harrak agreed, sitting down at the small desk.

He opened a large book and flipped to the right page before dipping his pen in the ink well.

"Sir?" Harrak asked.

Jak had thought about this as he rode down the hill. "Denil of Errith from the university in Eto and his assistant, Ratha Kamor. They're linguists, hired by the Archai."

"Duration of their visit, sir?"

"I'm not sure yet. Probably a month - I'll come down here if that changes."

Harrak carefully entered the details in his register. Jak had given Sai'em a Ventaxian name, which would account for her slight accent if she had to speak. Her hood hid her pointed ears and short hair and Ventaxian women were famous for standing with men on the battlefield, which should explain her breeches. Hopefully, he would be able to keep her hidden in his house so that no one would discover the lie.

Harrak closed the book and pulled two papers out of the desk drawer. He filled in the details and carefully sealed them.

"Will you ask them to register with the gate when they've found accommodation?" Harrak asked as he passed Jak the papers.

"They'll be staying with me," Jak said without thinking.

Harrak's eyes widened. "Yes, sir. I'll make a note of that, sir."

"See that you do."

Jak returned the constable's salute and went outside, taking a deep breath of the slightly less rancid air.

"What was that about?" Denil asked.

Jak mounted. "Just reminding them who's in charge." He handed out the documents Harrak had prepared. "Don't lose these or you'll end up in my cells and I'll have to pull a lot of strings to get you out."

"You've got a lot of security here," Denil noted.

"Wizards seem to make a lot of enemies really easily. Even King Geroll can't get in without the right passes."

"Doesn't he rule here?" Denil asked.

"Technically," Jak said. "He tends to concentrate more on the rest of his kingdom."

"So I see."

He led them through the streets of Genta towards a section northwest of the wizards' compound. The main streets had been cleared of snow although the cobbles would be slick with ice as soon as the sun went down. The narrower streets and alleys hadn't been cleared and the snow from the main streets had been piled in them. Tenants who were willing to take the time had cleared paths to houses and businesses but Jak guessed that most people were finding ways to avoid those streets. He made a mental note to have his people check those snow-clogged alleys on their patrols; they would make a great place to hide bodies and other inconvenient items until spring.

Jak's house was in one of the wealthier sections of the city. It had a high stone wall in front of it and strong gates. He opened the gates and led his companions through into the courtyard in front of the house. To the right were the stables with a cosy apartment above where his housekeeper lived with her son. The house was at right angles to the stable and the back of his neighbour's stables formed a wall to his left. He had never really noticed before how bare and bleak the courtyard looked. A plain, unadorned front to the house didn't help and Jak suddenly wanted to apologise for it. The garden behind the house was bright and filled with flowers in the summer but even it would be bare in the winter.

He dismounted and led his horse through the snow-covered yard towards the stables. He'd barely crossed more than halfway when the door to the house opened and framed his housekeeper.

"Commander Kern? Is that you?" she called.

Elsa Tanner was a plump woman in her fifties who fitted the stereotype of a jolly cook perfectly. Jak had hired her as soon as he met her. Anaya had only been gone for a few weeks and he'd needed someone he could trust to look after his house and son while he was working. Her references had been good but her kind face and immediate rapport with Charry had won her the job.

"Yes, Elsa, it's me," he called back.

"Have you found Charry yet?" she asked, her face falling as she searched and obviously didn't see the boy.

"Not yet," Jak replied, "but I have found the man who might be able to help me. Is Paet around?"

Elsa nodded. "I'll send him round to take care of the horses. Is there anything else you need?"

"I'll need my uniform and something suitable for Denil, here," he said. "We need to get to the wizards as soon as possible."

Within minutes Paet, a cheerful young man in his twenties, had taken the horses to be rubbed down in the stables and Jak was leading his companions into his house. The hallway was just as he had left it - tidy and plain. A pile of envelopes sat on a small table on his left and the vase that was filled with flowers in the summer held a few twigs of holly. Closed doors led off the hall into a formal sitting room, a large dining room and a study. The door to the comfortable den was ajar, as was the door at the end of the hall into the kitchen. He and Charry usually ate in there unless he had guests.

On Jak's right was the staircase to the upper level. He gestured for Sai'em and Denil to precede him and settled Denil's heavy book-filled pack more comfortably on his shoulder. Denil had insisted on carrying his other pack, but had been forced to concede on the books due to his healing arm. Jak managed to get his pack and Denil's up the stairs and paused as his eyes were immediately drawn towards the closed door to Charry's room. He felt warm skin brush his hand and tore his eyes away to meet Denil's. The scholar's eyes were filled with understanding and sympathy. Jak nodded and gestured down the corridor. He directed Sai'em into a guest bedroom and led Denil down to his bedroom at the end.

"Are you sure?" Denil asked, pausing in the doorway.

Elsa would probably be scandalised but Jak couldn't make himself care about that. The idea of Denil sleeping down the hall instead of next to him made something ache inside.

"I'm sure," he said.

Denil seemed to accept that and walked in, dumping his pack in a corner with a sigh.

Jak put Denil's other pack down next to it and slung his own pack onto the wide bed. A tall wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a washstand and a blanket box were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. Although there was no fire in the hearth, the room didn't have the damp, musty feel of an unused room so Jak guessed that Elsa had been airing and heating the house while he was away. He made a mental note to add a bonus to her pay at the end of the month.

"So, what are we doing now?" Denil asked, carefully flexing his healing arm and wincing as the scar obviously pulled.

"Now," Jak said, "we change and get over to the wizards before dark."

He strode over to the wardrobe and pulled the doors open. At that moment he felt movement behind him and then Elsa was next to him, slapping his hands away and giving him disapproving looks.

"Your formal uniform is on the bed, Commander," she said.

Jak glanced over and saw that his formal uniform was indeed on the bed, brushed and neat with a fine polish on the silver buttons.

"Thanks," he said politely.

Elsa sniffed. "Go and wash up while I find something suitable for your friend."

The emphasis she put on the word friend left Jak in no doubt that she had worked out his relationship with Denil immediately. Jak had no worries that she might gossip - her discretion was legendary - but he hoped that she wouldn't be too forceful in her disapproval. She hadn't approved of any of his 'friends' over the years, believing that he should be finding a nice, respectable young lady to replace Anaya. Jak usually just ignored her but this time her wanted her to like Denil. It was an emotion he decided not to examine too carefully for the moment.

Instead of saying anything he dug his shaving kit out of his pack and proceeded to tidy up and change, keeping a wary eye on Denil and Elsa.

Half an hour later, Elsa had been thoroughly charmed and Jak wondered how he could ever have worried that she wouldn't approve of Denil. She gave Jak a sniff that implied he looked presentable and bustled off to attend to Sai'em. Jak's black uniform was stiff and scratchy. The collar was too tight and he always felt ridiculous with all the gold braiding on the sleeves. He would have been far more comfortable in his less ceremonial one but appearances mattered to wizards so he was stuck with the formal one.

Denil looked amazing, even better than Jak had realised he could. Elsa had dug out a dark blue suit that intensified his eyes and the cut flattered him far better than his threadbare, mismatched clothes usually did. His hair had been combed neatly and, although it was still too long and flopped into his eyes, it looked somehow right on him. He was wearing his wire spectacles, which added a studious, scholarly air to his handsome appearance.

"Ready?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded and followed him downstairs. Paet was waiting in the courtyard with fresh horses. Jak recognised the old white mare as one from the Watch house stables. Patrolling the streets of Genta was done on foot but the Watch had a couple of horses for the odd occasions when they were needed, such as formal visits to the wizards' compound.

The beautiful, glossy silver stallion that Paet was beaming proudly at wasn't familiar but Jak had a fair idea where he came from. Paet had a problem with words and numbers; despite Elsa's best efforts, he could barely recognise his own name and addition was a complete mystery to him. He would be cheated out of everything he owned in five minutes if he tried to survive on his own. A way with horses was the only real gift he had. Jak had never met a man better with them and a horse trained by Paet was worth a small fortune. With help from Jak and Elsa, he bought, trained and sold horses, making a tidy profit in the process. The beautiful stallion waiting patiently in the courtyard had to be one of his.

That suspicion was confirmed within a couple of minutes of mounting the horse. He responded to the slightest of touches from Jak's knees and nothing startled him during the ride through the city, even when a child let off a firecracker in an alley. Jak made a mental note to negotiate a price with Elsa for the beast.

He led Denil through the twisting streets to the gates of the wizards' compound and stopped at the gate lodge. Jak frowned when he noticed the teenager who was manning the lodge. The boy's black robes had the pale lemon hood and trim of a first-level student and the irises of his eyes were still in the process of turning brilliant orange. Usually the gatekeepers were older, second or third-level wizards at least.

"Can I help you, sir?" the boy asked.

"I'm Commander Kern of the Watch," Jak said, "and this is Denil of Errith, the linguist. We have business with your librarian."

The boy cocked his head. "Our librarian?"

Jak nodded. "I've brought this man to translate a document in your library."

"Do you have any papers?"

Jak pulled his papers out of his coat pocket and took Denil's from him to hand to the boy. This was getting stranger and stranger - everyone in the compound usually recognised him on sight and he had never been asked for papers before. He visited the compound at least once a week in the course of his duties.

"The Archai knows what this is about," Jak prompted when the boy glanced nervously at the gates after carefully scrutinising the documents.

The boy gulped and held out the papers. "Thank you, Commander, these seem fine."

He pulled a rope hanging from the ceiling of his little lodge and, with the sound of grating metal, the high gates slowly swung open. Jak and Denil rode through.

"What was that about?" Denil asked in a low voice.

"I don't know," Jak replied quietly. "I don't like this."

"I don't either."

The avenue leading to the main building had been cleared but the lawns to either side were still blanketed with snow. As they approached, a small black-robed figure scurried out of the main door to wait at the base of the steps. When they reached him, Jak noted that it was another first-level student. The boy took their reins as they dismounted and cautiously patted the silver stallion's nose.

"He's lovely, sir," the boy said.

Jak frowned at him. "Yes, he is."

"Go on, sir. I have instructions to wait here while you talk."

Jak glanced up and his frown deepened when he saw an older man in the green-trimmed robe of a fourth-level wizard standing in front of the large ornate doors with his arms folded across his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he could see an equally worried expression on Denil's face. There was nothing else to do but walk up the steps and stop in front of the wizard. He was in his early twenties and had flame-red hair and a long nose. The hair clashed horridly with his orange eyes. Jak vaguely recognised him.

"The librarian is unavailable, Commander," the wizard said before Jak could even open his mouth.

"He'll be available to me," Jak said, carefully keeping his voice even and calm.

The wizard looked down his nose at Jak. "He isn't seeing anyone at present."

"Then I would like to speak to the Archai. My friend and I have travelled a long way and our business is urgent."

"Yes, the translation," the wizard said unconcernedly. "I was informed that you would be bringing the linguist. However, the Archai and the librarian are not available to speak with you and we cannot spare anyone to accompany your linguist in the library."

It was only the sense of Denil's calm presence at his shoulder that gave Jak the strength not to simply punch the officious little bastard on the nose.

"Is there anyone more senior that I can speak to?" Jak asked through gritted teeth.

"No," the wizard said curtly.

"Nobody?"

"Nobody, Commander."

The wizard stared at him impassively, not in the slightest bit intimidated by Jak's barely restrained anger.

"Of course there isn't," Jak said. "It isn't your son that's been taken who knows where. It's not your entire life that hinges on getting this linguist," he gestured at Denil, "into that library," he gestured at the building, "to translate a book written in a language that none of you people even recognise."

"We will send a message when someone is available to supervise your linguist in the library," the wizard said calmly.

"I suppose that I can't persuade you to let Denil study the book without a babysitter?" Jak asked, not really expecting an agreement.

"We'll send for you when someone can be spared," the wizard repeated.

"What's your name?" Jak asked.

"Amit Dion."

"Well, Amit Dion, I hope you never need help from your superiors because they'll screw you over," Jak said bitterly. "Denil was right - when you lot get your hooks into someone's soul, you never let go."

Amit blinked and said nothing.

"Tell your superiors that they'd better get their heads out of their asses soon," Jak said.

He turned on his heel and walked slowly down the steps with Denil following. Jak snatched the reins from the young student, who almost tripped over in his eagerness to run up the stairs to the dubious safety of the wizards' compound. He handed Denil's reins to the scholar and mounted quickly.

"Arrogant, scum-sucking, manipulative, orange-eyed, uncaring, arrogant bastards," Jak growled as he wheeled his horse and kneed it into a canter up the drive. "Did I mention arrogant?"

He continued cursing most of the way home.

Sai'em was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea while Mistress Tanner cooked and chatted. Strangely, although the housekeeper had glanced at her pointed ears, she hadn't asked about Sai'em's heritage. It was a refreshingly different response.

Instead, Mistress Tanner had pried out details of the journey and Denil's background, throwing in some details about her history and Paet to disguise the fact that she was essentially performing a ruthless interrogation. She had given away nothing about her employer, but on the odd occasions that she mentioned him there was a fond smile on her face. Sai'em got the impression that Mistress Tanner saw Jak as a headstrong teenager who needed her firm guidance and occasional spoiling but would turn out just fine eventually.

The smells rising from the pots bubbling on the stove were making Sai'em's stomach rumble hungrily and she was just wondering whether the men would be home for supper when the kitchen door leading to the stables slammed open, letting in a burst of cold air. Jak stalked through with a thunderous expression, pulling off his gloves with jerky movements. Denil followed and closed the door carefully. When he turned, Sai'em saw a mixture of sympathy and anger that she suspected was entirely on Jak's behalf.

"How did it go?" she asked, already guessing the answer.

"Oh, they can't see me right now but they'll send a messenger, so that's alright," Jak spat. "Arrogant little...I'm going to change."

He was obviously trying to rein in some of his anger but Sai'em caught some muttered curses as he brushed past her and left the room.

"It went that badly?" she asked.

Denil nodded. "I've never seen him this angry and, to be honest, I'm not far from feeling that way myself."

"Are you going after him?"

He shrugged out of his coat and accepted a steaming mug of tea from Mistress Tanner. "I think it might be best if I gave him some time to calm down."

It was sometimes hard to read human expressions, even Denil's, but Sai'em could easily interpret the way his eyes kept flickering to the door that Jak had left through as he sipped his tea. Even though he knew that leaving Jak alone was for the best, he still wanted to be with the man. After a couple of minutes, he seemed to pull himself out of his introspection.

"Mistress Tanner-" he began.

"Call me Elsa," the housekeeper said with a maternal smile.

"Elsa. Has anything unusual happened in the city while Jak was away?"

Denil walked slowly up the stairs and paused at the top. The door to Charry's room was half open and there was no doubt in his mind that he would find Jak there. Almost without conscious thought, he silently moved towards it and stopped in the doorway.

Jak was sitting on the edge of a small bed. The room obviously had not been touched since its owner disappeared. The shattered remains of a dish lay on the wooden floor with a few bronze coins, a broken toy horse and the assorted detritus that most boys collect. There was a deep gash in the dresser next to the pile and another in a small wardrobe. Books had been swept off a shelf and the splintered remains of a small table still lay in one corner. Jak had fought hard against the invaders who took his son.

The man showed no sign that he had noticed Denil's presence; his entire attention seemed focused on the battered stuffed bear that he was holding. Denil couldn't see his face but the set of his bowed shoulders didn't encourage interruption.

Denil swallowed and turned away. It felt like he was intruding on something that should stay private. He could tell Jak what he had learned from Elsa Tanner later.

It was hours later when Denil finally went upstairs again. Elsa had cooked a delicious chicken pie for supper, particularly welcome after weeks of unvarying inn food, and Denil had stayed in the kitchen talking with Sai'em until the housekeeper began turning down the lanterns. The door to Charry's room was closed again so he said goodnight to the elf at her door and went down the corridor to the bedroom at the end. Denil quietly opened the door and slipped through, latching it carefully. Only a couple of candles still flickered in their holders above the bed and the fire crackled welcomingly on the hearth. At first he thought that Jak, lying on his back with his eyes shut, was asleep until he opened his eyes and smiled slightly.

"Were you waiting for an engraved invitation?" Jak asked dryly.

Denil couldn't help grinning at that. Jak's temper seemed improved and there was no trace of the melancholy he had sensed in Charry's bedroom. He quickly shed the suit and shirt Jak had lent him and slid into bed next to his lover.

"I thought you were sleeping," Denil explained.

Jak rolled onto his side and pulled Denil into a quick, fierce kiss. "The polite euphemism would be that I was thinking."

Denil wrapped his arm loosely around Jak's waist. "And the less polite explanation?"

"I was angry and wouldn't have been a nice person to be around. I needed some time to cool down."

"How are you feeling now?"

Jak shrugged. "Angry. But I don't think I'll be tearing any of them apart with my bare hands in the immediate future so I guess that's an improvement."

"Wizards seem to produce that reaction in a lot of people."

Jak was silent for a while before fixing Denil with an intent gaze that he couldn't tear his eyes away from. "What did they do to you?"

"What?"

"Most people don't trust wizards but with you it seems...personal. You've also got an elf standing bodyguard who seems convinced that the wizards will never let you leave Genta."

"Half-elf."

"What?"

"Sai'em is only half elf. On her father's side."

Jak's eyes narrowed slightly. "Does it really matter?"

"It does to her."

"Denil," Jak said warningly.

"Well, not to this conversation. I guess."

"Then quit stalling."

Denil shifted forward and kissed Jak seductively.

Jak put a hand on his chest and firmly pushed him away. "Nice try, but no good. I'm not that easily distracted."

Denil sighed and rolled onto his back. He was aware of Jak propping his head on his hand so that the former mercenary could watch his eyes, but he didn't turn his head. Instead, he reached out blindly for Jak's free hand and twined their fingers together, bringing their joined hands across to rest on his bare stomach.

"I've been here before," Denil said. "In Genta, I mean."

"I gathered that much."

"It was a long time ago."

"Go on."

"My parents were itinerant scholars. We'd travel around, spending summers on excavations that interested them and winters in cities and universities so they could research in the archives and libraries. We even spent one winter in a king's palace because he had a book they wanted to see. They thought that if we could find out the origins of the Gilderaan Empire and how it grew as fast as it did, maybe they could discover why it fell."

"Did they ever find out?"

Denil shook his head. "If they did, the answer wasn't in any notes that I have."

"I take it you came here one year?"

"The winter before they died." Denil absently traced circles on the back of Jak's hand with his thumb. "The wizards have been gathering up everything that even mentions magic for centuries - they think they're the only suitable guardians for that kind of information," he said bitterly. It was a policy that went against everything he believed about knowledge. "My parents thought that some of those documents might have the information they needed. Magic would certainly explain how the Gilderaan Empire acquired so much territory in only half a century. We took rooms at an inn and tried to get access to the library."

"Successful?"

"Eventually, under supervision. I went with them every day and a fourth-level wizard was assigned to watch us."

"Trusting."

Denil couldn't help snorting at that. "I swear that wizard almost had apoplexy every time my parents walked past the restricted section. We didn't find much even though we were there for months. Father became rather...irritated with the obstructionism and lack of access to the restricted section. Maybe they might have found something if we'd stayed longer."

"Why didn't you?"

"It was my fault, actually."

Jak squeezed Denil's hand. "How could it be your fault? You were just a kid."

"That was the problem." Denil turned his head to see the confusion in Jak's eyes. "I was just starting to work out that the strange feelings in my head could tell me what the weather would do. I'd always had them but for the first time I was old enough to consciously realise what they meant. Unfortunately, I wasn't old enough to keep secrets well. I tried, but I kept blurting things out at the wrong moment and the wizard babysitting my parents worked out that something was going on. He asked a lot of questions and my parents started to get worried."

"Why?"

"Wizards like to keep anything connected to magic - even people - to themselves. My ability isn't true magic but it was unusual enough to interest them."

"Your parents didn't think that they'd try to take you, did they?" Jak asked sceptically.

Denil raised an eyebrow. "Jak, half the students in that compound were taken without their parent's consent. Wizards don't like to let anything escape them."

"They kidnap kids?"

"If the parents aren't frightened enough to give them up, yes."

Jak sighed. "I wondered, sometimes, but I've never had proof."

"That's the kind of people you work for."

"Hey, I don't work for them."

"No? Who runs this city, Jak? Who dictates what you can and can't look into? Who pays your wages?"

"The city council."

"Which group has the largest number of representatives on the council?"

"Aren't we getting a little side-tracked here?" Jak asked uncomfortably.

Denil gave in, for the moment. "Yes, we are."

"So what did your parents do?"

The scholar smiled slightly. "We snuck out before thaw. By the time anyone noticed we were gone, we were fifty miles away and a blizzard was closing in on the city. They never caught up with us."

"That blizzard was very convenient."

"I told my parents when it might hit. The rest was easy."

"No one came after you?"

"If they did, they didn't find us. My parents went on the remotest dig they could find. Father must have left instructions with his chief assistant about what to do if anything happened to them." Denil's throat tightened as it always did when he thought about that terrible day but he'd shed all his tears long ago. "Barit picked me up and took me to Eto as soon as he was sure that nothing could be done. Denil Curath became Denil of Errith and no wizards ever tried to take me away."

"This is why Sai'em insisted on coming with us," Jak surmised shrewdly.

"She worries."

"I can understand why now."

Denil raised their joined hands and looked at them, absorbing the contrast between his long, elegant fingers and Jak's darker, callused hand. "I think I know why the wizards were acting the way they did today."

Sudden fierce interest lit in Jak's eyes but he only said, mildly, "Oh?"

"I was talking to Elsa. Apparently there was a large explosion a few weeks ago. It rocked the city, knocked slates off roofs and no wizard has been seen outside the compound since."

"That fits the timing of the weather."

"Almost to the day. Sai'em thinks a spell went wrong and backlashed on them - a big one. It would explain a lot."

"Uh-huh."

"Any wizard contributing power to the spell would be incapacitated - the more power they put in, the worse the backlash."

"So the only ones unaffected..."

"-Are the lower-level wizards."

Jak spent a few minutes cursing the wizards, even managing a few curses that Denil didn't know. He was wondering whether a particularly colourful physical position was even possible when Jak broke off.

"Low-level wizards?" Jak asked quietly before a grin slowly spread across his face.

"What?" Denil asked warily.

"I was just thinking that if they're having problems like that, we might be able to get in and borrow that book ourselves."

Denil blinked a couple of times. "Steal from wizards?"

"Not steal - borrow."

"You're borrowing without permission or any intention of returning it. Don't your city laws classify that as theft?"

Jak shrugged. "Planning to report me?"

Denil glowered at him.

"Alright, I'll give it a day and then I'm going in."

"Three days."

"I'll think about it."

That was the nearest thing to a promise that Denil was likely to get out of the man so when Jak suddenly leaned over and kissed him, he didn't try to resist. It was a deep, intoxicating kiss that chased away all coherent thought and left trails of fire and need in its wake.

"I thought you didn't want to...?" Denil asked a few minutes later.

The soft smile on Jak's face made him look ten years younger. "I wanted to know your story. Now I know it."

He leaned down again and Denil released his hand so that he could wrap his arm around Jak. The feel of Jak's skin against his had become almost familiar over the past couple of weeks but it still had the power to send hot shivers down Denil's spine to pool at the base of his stomach. He shifted restlessly against Jak and was rewarded with a gasp.

"I want you," Jak growled in his ear.

Denil nuzzled Jak's throat, teasing and gently nipping at it. "I'm here."

Suddenly Jak was pulling away and stretching across to get something out of the pack on the floor next to the bed. Denil barely had time to swallow his disappointment before Jak was back, holding a small bottle of oil.

"I want you," Jak repeated and Denil suddenly understood.

For a moment he froze, uncertain whether he was ready to take this step, but it only lasted a heartbeat. Of course he was ready. It was what he had expected on the night they became lovers. It had just been delayed slightly due to the circumstances. Now the circumstances, if not the timing, were better and he wanted to know what it would be like to have Jak inside him and to be inside Jak.

Denil plucked the bottle out of Jak's hand and stretched up to brush their lips together.

"I want you too," he whispered, pulling Jak down.

Jak woke up feeling tired and there was tightness in his head that meant a headache was trying to form. A glance at the sliver of sky visible above the rooftops through his window showed why. Dawn was only just lightening the sky so he had barely had a couple of hours of sleep. The fact that it was his own fault didn't help. He was the one who had initiated a third round of lovemaking when Denil was still drowsy and content from the last bout. It was just that the fierce pleasure and satiation of his release had, for a while, pushed away the anger and disappointment of realising that finding his son wouldn't be as easy as he had expected it to be now that they were back in Genta.

He swallowed and forced the blank despair away. He would find his son. It was just going to take longer than he had thought it would.

Despite his exhaustion, Jak felt restless. Denil was sleeping peacefully, his arm around Jak's waist and his head resting on Jak's shoulder, but that kind of peace eluded the former mercenary. He needed to be doing something. Out on the road, the daily slog through the snow had fulfilled that need. Somewhere at the back of his mind there had always been the assumption that he would get to Genta and immediately discover the location of his son. It was ridiculous but inevitable. Now he had to face the fact that translating the book and finding the clues that might lead him to his son would take even more time.

Jak brushed a hand over Denil's hair and briefly considered waking him up. He dismissed the thought immediately. Denil deserved his sleep after the difficult journey and what could he do anyway?

Instead, Jak carefully slipped out of the bed. Denil immediately sighed and rolled onto his stomach but didn't wake. Jak silently crossed the room and rummaged through his wardrobe. Elsa had taken their travelling clothes to wash but he found a grey jacket and breeches and a linen shirt that he hadn't taken with him. He dressed quickly and pulled on warm woollen socks. His hand hesitated over his gaudy uniform jacket and he shrugged. Even the everyday jacket was ridiculously over-decorated so he took off the watch badge and rank pin and left it behind.

Jak glanced at the bed before he left. Denil hadn't stirred and the blanket had fallen down to his waist, exposing the smooth length of his bare back. Without pausing to think, Jak crossed the room and planted a kiss between Denil's shoulder blades. The mixed musk of Denil and sex made his resolve waver for a moment but he straightened up and ignored the temptation. Denil shifted slightly as though he could feel Jak even in sleep. Jak touched his shoulder lightly before picking up his boots and slipping out of the room.

Elsa puzzled Sai'em. She seemed to be a gossipy, garrulous woman and yet she didn't discuss her employer's business and displayed no interest in Sai'em's heritage. The elf had caught Elsa's eyes occasionally flickering to her pointed ears but the woman had said nothing. In her experience, humans usually couldn't resist commenting on the ears and asking all sorts of questions that she couldn't answer. Instead, Elsa made piecrusts and told Sai'em more than she wanted to know about the gentlemen callers at a house down the street. Sai'em sat at the kitchen table drinking tea, trying to puzzle out why the woman wasn't behaving the way she was supposed to.

Every now and then Elsa paused in her chatter and gave Sai'em thorough instruction about what she was doing with the pastry. Sai'em just nodded and sipped her tea.

There was nothing else she could do. She'd slept as much as she could and she couldn't leave the house without risking exposure. Sai'em hadn't been able to bring any of her work with her and most of Denil's books were in languages she didn't understand. If they had to stay in Genta for a prolonged period of time, she anticipated becoming very bored.

It was late morning when Denil finally appeared in the kitchen. He was still yawning sleepily so she poured a mug of tea and held it out. He took it and sipped gratefully as he sat down across the table from her.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

Denil pushed his hair away from his eyes and stifled another yawn. "Better."

"Really?" she asked sceptically.

"I think the journey is just catching up with me today."

He finished his mug and poured another. The tea gradually took effect and Denil began to look more awake. Sai'em was aware of Elsa listening carefully as she filled her pies with fruit. Probably nothing happened in the house that the housekeeper didn't know about within a few minutes.

"Have you seen Jak?" Denil asked.

Sai'em shook her head. "I assumed he was still upstairs with you."

Denil suddenly flushed and shifted uncomfortably. Sai'em almost asked what had made him react that way before reminding herself that it really wasn't her business. As long as Jak did nothing to harm Denil, she would have to curb her instinct to protect him.

"Commander Kern has gone to the Watch house," Elsa said, her eyes still intent on her pies. "He felt that he would be more useful at work than waiting here for a message from the wizards that may never come."

"He was threatening to break into their library last night," Denil said.

"Do you think he would?" Sai'em asked.

"Yes," Denil and Elsa chorused before glancing at each other with surprised expressions.

Sai'em managed to restrain herself from commenting on human impetuosity with great effort.

Jak managed to keep his frustration under control for two days before it finally got the better of him and he had to do something. A brief trip to the wizards' compound only eroded his temper further. A fourth-level wizard with an annoying sneer barely listened to him before sending him away to wait for a message. Again. Jak had no idea how he managed to restrain himself from punching the arrogant son of a bitch.

Instead he stalked home, his anger getting hotter as he went, and threw open the kitchen door with a satisfying crash. Two pairs of startled blue eyes met his. Elsa just sniffed disapprovingly and turned back to her stove.

"Jak?" There was a note of concern in Denil's voice.

"I've had it," Jak announced, closing the door. "Those wizards have had plenty of time to dig out someone to baby-sit us. They're lying, arrogant, snivelling weasels with the humanity of hyenas and I'm tired of waiting around for them."

"You're right. We need to take that book."

"Denil, they've gone too far and...I'm right?" The scholar's unexpected agreement temporarily derailed the righteous anger that Jak had been nursing. Despite Denil's dislike of wizards, he hadn't expected him to agree to theft so quickly.

"You're right," Denil repeated. "They're playing with us. They'll keep putting us off until we give up."

Jak eyed him uncertainly. "Why are you agreeing with me?"

Denil glanced at Sai'em before focusing on Jak again. "If they had any intention of helping us, they would have found someone to sit with me in the library by now. The fact that they want a senior wizard around strongly suggests that they want to keep the information in that book to themselves. If they hadn't put most of their senior wizards out of action, I'd probably be sitting in that library right now making the translation with an ancient wizard breathing down my neck and we wouldn't have seen anything of it when I finished unless there was something that even I could tell was relevant."

Jak had to take a moment to reorder his thoughts and discard some of the arguments he'd had lined up to persuade Denil to go along with the idea. "Well, thank you. I'm glad you agree with me."

"You're welcome. What's your plan?"

Jak sat down at the table. "I'm going to break in."

"I gathered that. How do we do it?"

The unwavering assumption that it would be a joint expedition made Jak wince. "We don't. I do, with Sai'em's help." He held up a hand to forestall Denil's protests. "I know you want to help and I appreciate it, but this isn't something you can do. I need you to translate the book if we get it out."

"What do you need me for?" Sai'em asked.

"Could you get past alarm spells set by humans?"

"Probably."

"Would you be willing to do it?"

Sai'em cocked her head. "I've never stolen anything before, but it might be an interesting challenge."

Jak grinned and outlined his plan. At one point Denil interrupted to ask how Jak knew so much about the defences in the wizards' library and he had to smile sheepishly.

"A lot of those spells were put in place after I broke in to search the restricted section," Jak explained. "I discovered them when I tried to steal the book to bring to you. As soon as I picked the lock, an alarm went off that woke the whole damn place."

Denil's brilliant smile sent an unexpected thrill down Jak's spine.

"How soon can you be ready?" Jak asked Sai'em.

She shrugged. "Now, if you need me."

Getting over the high wall around the compound was easy. The wickedly pointed iron stakes set along its top probably intimidated causal student escapees but they made good grips for grappling hooks and were spaced far enough apart to cause few problems for a pair of nimble thieves.

Jak and Sai'em dropped lightly to the ground and ran across the snow to the main building. The elf easily sped over the white surface without leaving a footprint and her white coat blended with the moonlit snow. Jak was slightly slower and he glanced back over his trail when he reached the protection of the small sheltered doorway they were aiming for. The footprints that would have given away his presence were already disappearing. He raised his eyebrow at Sai'em and she nodded, her blue eyes sparkling.

The door was a small one that led into the servants' quarters. Jak crouched to examine the lock and was surprised when Sai'em batted his hands away. She made a circling gesture with one hand and mouthed, "Warded."

Jak nodded his understanding and stepped away to let her work. She held her hands just above the handle and closed her eyes. After a few breaths, a glow appeared around the door that quickly dissipated. Sai'em stepped back and gestured for Jak to resume his part in the break-in. The lock was easily picked and they slipped in soundlessly. Sai'em took a moment to reset the ward-spell before they walked quietly down a short hallway. The sound of snoring floated out through a couple of closed doors and Jak heaved a sigh of relief when they latched the door to the large kitchen at the end of the hall behind them.

It wasn't time to relax yet. Jak took off the knapsack he was carrying and pulled out two black robes. He had already decided not to ask Elsa where she'd found two robes with the green trim and hoods of fourth-level wizards at short notice. He bundled his coat with Sai'em's and the knapsack and hid them in a shadowed corner. The robes weren't perfect fits but they would do and the raised hood hid Sai'em's pointed ears.

During his years with the Watch, Jak had observed that the most successful thieves were those who didn't look like thieves. Skulking, creeping and running away attract attention. Someone who acts innocently can pass undetected, even if he's stealing the family jewels as he goes.

Sai'em and Jak employed that idea as they walked through the corridors towards the library. Jak's heart hammered as though he was running a marathon, but he calmly nodded greetings as he passed other wizards and led the way without hesitation. Instead of waiting suspiciously outside the door until the coast was clear, they walked boldly into the library and found to their relief that it was empty. A few mage-lights floated near the ceiling but there was no movement between the stacks. The restricted section was at the far end behind a heavy grating. A barred door was set into it with an old lock that Jak knew from experience was easy to pick and a couple of shiny, newer ones that looked trickier. Although the rest of the library had high ceilings and a balcony around the edge with yet more shelves, the restricted section was low with vaulted ceilings. He wasn't an expert on architecture, but Jak thought that this was much older than the rest of the library.

As Jak led Sai'em to it he asked, "Did you notice the wizards we passed?"

Sai'em pushed back her hood and nodded. "Nobody was above fourth-level."

"That suggests they were telling the truth about everyone higher being out of action."

"If the backlash was bad enough - and I think it probably was - any wizard caught up in it will be useless for months. Most of the remaining students will have to act as nursemaids until they start to regain their strength."

"Does this work for us?"

"It makes getting past any spells undetected a bit easier."

Sai'em spent a couple of minutes carefully examining the grating without touching it.

"This is a lot more complicated than the door was," she said softly.

"How?"

"The locks are protected against picking and there seems to be a grid of power inside that will fry you if you touch it."

"Nice. They've made some upgrades."

"It's quite sophisticated," she said admiringly. "For humans."

"Are you going to compliment them or disarm it?"

Sai'em frowned and stated intently at the grating. For a long time nothing happened. Jak kept a wary eye on the door at the other end of the room and waited for some sign that Sai'em had broken past the wizards' spells.

"Try now," she whispered eventually.

"Try what?"

"Picking the lock."

Jak knelt in front of the barred door and pulled the small leather roll containing his lock picks out of a pocket under his robe. He examined the locks carefully before choosing the picks he would need for the first of the newer locks.

Just before inserting the pick, he paused and asked, "You're sure this won't fry me?"

"I'm sure."

He carefully inserted the pick just as Sai'em added softly, "Almost sure."

Jak ignored her and concentrated on delicately manipulating the lock mechanism. It took a few minutes before he felt the tumblers fall and he allowed a small grin to escape. The other new lock had a slightly different internal configuration and took even longer. The older one was simple by comparison. By the time he was finished he was dripping with nervous sweat.

"Done," he announced quietly, wincing as he stood. Kneeling on cold stone floors was murder on his knees.

Sai'em's sigh of relief was audible in the silent library. She waited until Jak moved out of the way before carefully pulling the door open.

"Is it safe to go in?" Jak asked.

Sai'em shook her head and held up her hand. A burst of pale light shot out from her palm into the vault and immediately a grid-work of thin red beams criss-crossing it appeared. Jak jumped and swore harshly under his breath.

"Could you warn me before you do something like that?" he asked irritably.

"Sorry." The tone of Sai'em's voice wasn't particularly apologetic. "Where was the book?"

"Why?"

"I can't shut down the entire spell without someone noticing, but I can clear a path."

Jak pointed towards a corner of the vaulted chamber. "It was over there. Unless they've moved it."

Sai'em nodded and a moment later another bolt of pale light flew from her hand. This time it didn't dissipate throughout the chamber. Instead it expanded to form a narrow corridor leading towards the section Jak had pointed to. The light brightened and then split in two and wherever the light touched the grid it absorbed the red beams until a pale pink light edged a cleared corridor a little wider than a man.

"It's safe," Sai'em said quietly. "Try not to touch the light, though. Bring out the book - I may have an idea for it."

Jak looked at her suspiciously. "What sort of idea?"

"I don't want to say until I know whether it might work."

"So it's a surprise."

"In a sense."

"I don't like surprises."

"Even good ones?"

"Surprises tend to ruin perfectly good plans."

"This one will help our plan."

Jak opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. He had a feeling that the elf could out-argue him without much difficulty and time was important.

Holding his arms carefully at his sides, he strode down the narrow corridor towards the shelves. Sai'em's light display was actually going to work in their favour. It provided just enough illumination to allow him to read the spines of the books without needing to find and light any candles. Although there were mage-lights in the main library, the lamps in the restricted section were dark - probably to deter any curious students. Jak remembered, in a vague way, which shelf the book had been on but it took him a few minutes to find it. Eventually he spotted the slim volume wedged between two huge, thick books and carefully pulled it free, all the time expecting alarms to go off as he did so. The compound stayed silent, though, so he quickly returned to Sai'em and held the book out to her.

It was a small, non-descript book that he'd almost ignored the when he was first looking for clues to his son's kidnapping. The gold embossed lettering was fading and the red leather had darkened with age. He still had no idea what had made him pick it up. The characters on the spine weren't in any alphabet that he recognised and there was nothing else notable on it. But the moment he'd seen the cover, Jak had known that this would hold the clue that would lead him to his son. The tooling on the cover was a perfect, intricate reproduction of the vortex that the kidnappers had disappeared through. The text inside was written in the same strange alphabet as the cover and the wizards hadn't been able to make any sense of it. There were diagrams as well and those had confirmed in Jak's mind that he had found an important clue. As well as another diagram of the vortex, there had been a sketch of some kind of emblem that was similar to a tattoo on the cheek of one of the kidnappers.

"This is it," Jak said.

Sai'em took the book from him and swept her fingers over the cover. A small smile appeared on her face.

"This will work," she said, handing the book back to Jak.

"What will work?" he asked.

Sai'em ignored him and reached into her robe to pull out a small book almost the same size as the one in Jak's hand.

"Watch," she instructed.

Sai'em rested a hand on Jak's book and closed her eyes. The book in her hand shimmered disconcertingly and then it began to change. Before Jak's eyes the leather gradually darkened and writhed as characters appeared on its surface. Within a couple of minutes it looked exactly like Jak's book and Sai'em opened her eyes with a satisfied smile.

"Well?" she asked. "Is this a good surprise?"

Jak took her book and opened it. "There's nothing in this."

Sai'em shrugged. "Duplicating the text would require me to look at each individual page and copy it. The spell doesn't work on what I can't see."

"Why?" Sai'em began to reply, but Jak held up a hand and said, "Never mind. I don't really need to know."

"Thank you."

Jak tucked his book into his robe and held up the fake. "I'll put this back then."

"That would be a good idea. Could you hurry a little?"

"Tired?"

"It's a complicated spell I'm holding and we still have to reset the wards we took down."

Denil was pacing in Jak's bedroom. He had been pacing since Jak and Sai'em left just after midnight, stopping occasionally to peer out of the window at the snowy garden. Now pale dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky and he was spending more time gazing anxiously out of the window than pacing. Logic told him that it was sensible to take the smallest group possible into the wizards' compound and he was not an ideal thief, but his instincts told him that he should be sharing his friends' danger.

There was a quiet knock on his door and he called for the person to enter. Elsa came in and joined him at the window. She was already dressed in a dark grey gown with her greying hair neatly pulled into a bun. Denil was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday.

"It won't be much longer," she said reassuringly.

Denil nodded wordlessly. They continued their silent vigil as the sky turned pink and the sun slowly rose over the horizon. Pale light was just beginning to touch the snowy garden when there was movement at the far end. A small gate set in the high wall opened and two figures slipped through, the darker one pushing it shut before they walked towards the house. Sai'em's white coat was as unmistakable as Jak's silvering hair. Denil and Elsa exchanged relieved grins before rushing for the stairs.

Jak and Sai'em were shaking the snow off their boots at the kitchen door when Denil and Elsa entered the kitchen. Denil immediately crossed to Jak and took the knapsack that was handed to him.

"Jak, where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"It's nice to know you were so concerned," Jak said lightly.

Denil scowled at him. "You should have been back hours ago."

"It took longer than we'd planned."

There was a slight limp in Jak's walk as he moved to the table and gratefully sank onto one of the chairs.

"Are you alright?" Denil asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Jak winced as he carefully massaged one of his knees. "I've just spent most of the night picking and unpicking locks."

Denil shot a questioning glance at Sai'em.

"We wanted to get in and out undetected so we had to leave everything as we found it," she explained.

Her face was pale and Denil could detect signs of strain and tiredness around her eyes. His guess was confirmed when she also sat on with of the kitchen chairs with an exhausted sigh. Elsa must have noticed their weariness because she began bustling around the kitchen, taking bacon and sausages out of the larder.

"Did you get it?" Denil asked.

There was a triumphant grin on Jak's face as he pulled a slim dark red book out of his coat. Denil held out a hand uncertainly and Jak immediately surrendered the book to him. Everything else faded away as Denil ran his fingers over the intricately tooled leather cover. He stumbled over to a chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving the faded letters. Conversation flowed unheeded around him.

Denil opened the book, faintly surprised to see that the ink was still bright and the pages unmarked by time despite the book's obvious age. He held the pages to his nose and smelt the slight tang of marshmallow, a root that he often smelled on books treated with preserving spells. Lowering the book, he flipped to the first page and stared at the writing.

He had no idea how much time passed before someone shook his shoulder and Jak called his name.

"Can you translate it?" Jak asked, hope shining in his eyes.

Denil absently picked up the steaming mug of tea on the table in front of him and sipped at it while he composed his answer. "It's written in Old High Elvish runes."

"So you can translate it," Jak confirmed.

Denil frowned thoughtfully. "I can read the runes but they're translating into gibberish. Maybe there's something wrong in my translation - I'd have to check one of my notebooks upstairs."

"Can you translate it?" Jak asked Sai'em.

The elf shook her head ruefully. "Old High Elvish hasn't been used by my people for over a thousand years. Only the historians and a few elders can still read it. I'm not much of a linguist or a historian."

"Is there somewhere quiet where I can work on this?" Denil asked.

"You can use my study. It's the room next door," Jak said.

"Thanks."

Denil picked up the book and his tea and walked to the door, his mind already returning to the puzzling translation.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Jak asked.

"I'll need my books," Denil said, pausing. "Just bring the entire pack and I'll find what I need. I'll also need paper - lots of it, probably. And my pen case is wrapped in some socks in my other pack."

"I'll get them for you," Jak promised.

"Thanks," Denil said vaguely.

By nightfall Denil was no further in his translation and a long way towards shouting at Jak. He knew that it was only worry for his son, but each time Jak came into the study with a cup of tea, a plate of food or wood for the fire and asked about his progress it interrupted his train of thought. Eventually he had to say something despite knowing why Jak was there.

"How is it going?" Jak asked as he put another mug of tea on the desk and removed the previous, untouched one.

"I'm no further than I was the last time you asked," Denil said, "or even than I was this morning."

"Oh."

Denil put on his best sympathetic expression. "I know you're only trying to help, Jak, but at the moment the best thing you can do is to let me work. Each interruption only delays me."

"I'm sorry," Jak said quietly.

Denil gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't be - I understand. Just give me some time to study this thing."

Jak nodded. "I'll stay out of your way."

"Thank you."

The former mercenary walked to the door and hesitated. "Can I send Sai'em in sometimes to get you things?"

"That would be great."

With a curt nod, Jak left the room and Denil sighed before returning to the book.

Denil worked steadily, barely taking more than a few minutes' break for anything, and Sai'em kept him supplied with food and pots of tea. Three days after the theft she took another tray into the study and winced at what she saw. The room was lit by mage-lights that she had produced after a short rest from the exertion of the theft and they provided a better light than candles ever could. That light clearly showed the untouched tray from lunch and Denil's exhausted, defeated posture. She put her tray down on a low table by the fire and lightly touched his shoulder, unsurprised when he jumped.

"Have you slept recently?" she asked critically.

He put his pen down and rubbed a hand over his face. "I dozed off for a couple of hours yesterday."

"I thought so. Why don't you go upstairs and get some proper sleep?"

Denil shook his head. "I need to finish this."

"How's it going?"

"It's complete nonsense," he said irritably. "I've tried everything I can think of and I can't get it to make sense."

Sai'em picked up one of the pieces of paper he had been working on and tried to read it. "I see what you mean. Do you think the book is useless?"

Denil pushed his hair out of his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, a move that always signalled some form of distress. "That's the problem - I don't think it is. I think it probably describes the spells used to create the vortex. If I could translate it then we could probably trace those spells back to find out where Jak's son might be."

"You're sure about that?"

"Absolutely. The diagrams and illustrations in there are unmistakable. It's the text that makes no sense."

He suddenly swept the useless translations on off the desk and swore loudly. "If it would just make sense!"

Sai'em put a hand on his wrist. "Calm down. Go and get some sleep - you can't be thinking clearly right now. I'm sure Jak won't be angry if you get a little rest after working for three days straight. Maybe the answer will come when you've had a chance to clear your mind a little."

Denil seemed to deflate as the last of his energy ran out of him. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am." Sai'em grinned. "I'm an elf."

"Half-elf," Denil correctly automatically.

"Pedant."

She ignored his raised eyebrows.

There is a place between sleeping and waking where the mind roams and wanders in a way that it doesn't have the freedom to at any other time. Denil was in that place. Runes and letters chased across the surface of his mind, combining and breaking apart to recombine in new formations.

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he was wide-awake as an idea hit him. It was at once so obvious and so devious that he almost dismissed it. After a few minutes of careful consideration, though, he decided that it was definitely an idea worth pursuing.

At some point Jak had come home from the Watch house and slipped into bed. Denil could feel Jak's warm bulk spooned behind him and there was a strong arm slung over his waist. The room was still dark so dawn hadn't yet come, but his mind was now too active to go back to sleep. He wouldn't get any peace until he had tried his idea and found out whether or not it worked. Denil carefully eased away from Jak despite Jak's attempts to pull him closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked back when he heard a soft grunt behind him.

"D'n'l?" Jak mumbled sleepily.

He wasn't really awake so Denil brushed his fingers through Jak's hair and murmured, "It's alright, go back to sleep."

Jak obediently rolled over and began snoring softly again. Denil grinned indulgently before standing, wincing as cool air met bare flesh. He quickly dressed, uncaring whether his clothes matched or not, and crept quietly out of the room. There were a couple of lamps turned low to illuminate the hall and stairway so Denil made his way safely to the study. There he ignored the untidy jumble of papers that he had knocked to the floor last night and pulled out a fresh sheet as he sat down. He opened the stolen book to the first page again and stared at the incomprehensible runes for a while.

It took a few minutes to search through his notebooks and find the one he was looking for. When he had it, he flicked through the pages until he found the right place and read the entry. It said exactly what he thought he remembered. Putting that notebook next to Jak's book, Denil dipped his pen in ink and began to write slowly, stopping frequently to refer to his notes.

Jak spent as much time as he could at the Watch house, deciding that it was better to keep up with the meaningless paperwork and have an eye on his constables rather than wait in the house with only his thoughts and a mysterious elf for company. He left early and returned late, his eyes inevitably drawn to the door of the study where Denil was working each time he walked through the hall. The only thing that stopped him walking into that room and asking how the translation was going every few minutes was the thought that it might delay Denil's work. Now that he finally had the book, every minute seemed precious. It wasn't just that he needed to see his son again after months of missing him; he felt as though something terrible would happen if he delayed further.

It was a week after the theft when Jak came home just after midnight and his eyes, as always, went to the study door. This time he was too tired to resist so he went down the hall and nudged the door open, although he wasn't so tired that he would interrupt Denil yet. Instead, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched the scholar, drinking in every detail.

Denil was hunched over his desk, a look of intense concentration just visible through the curtain of too-long hair. His hair had grown a couple of inches over the past month so that it now nearly touched his shoulders and he had to brush it out of his eyes frequently. Jak still wondered how hair that he thought should look ridiculous could actually suit the man and emphasise his strength instead of feminising him.

As he watched, Jak slowly realised that there was something different about Denil's posture. When he came here the night after the theft, Denil's shoulders had been slumped and there had been an aura of disappointed frustration around him. Now, although he looked exhausted, there was also anticipation and tightly controlled excitement in his face and body. Denil had open books spread out on the desk around him and he divided his attention between them, running a finger down one page and then turning to another and nodding before scribbling something on one of the many pieces of paper in front of him. Some time in the last week he'd had some kind of breakthrough in the translation.

Jak wasn't sure how long he stood watching Denil. He wasn't just watching a man who was helping him to find his son - he was watching his lover, a man who was slowly coming to mean more to him than he had ever thought possible. The mismatched jacket and breeches, the untidily cut hair and the ink smudges on Denil's fingers had somehow captured him in a way that nobody else had. Jak felt as though he was being torn in two. On the one hand he needed to find his son, but on the other he missed having Denil in bed next to him. He'd come home a couple of nights ago to find Denil asleep in the bed and woken up the following morning alone. It had been a strange moment to realise that he was both glad and disappointed at the same time.

Eventually, Denil must have sensed that someone was there because he turned in his chair and the smile that spread across his face made Jak's heart skip a beat.

"How long have you been standing there?" Denil asked, rotating his neck with a wince.

Jak had crossed the room and begun firmly massaging the stiff muscles before he had time to think about whether or not it was a good idea.

"A while," Jak said.

Denil sighed as Jak's fingers worked on a tense spot. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Not noticing you."

"You weren't meant to. I didn't want to interrupt you."

"The translation is going well."

"I gathered."

"It's going to take some time, though."

Jak reluctantly removed his fingers from Denil's neck. "I should go then."

Denil caught Jak's hand as he passed, forcing him to stop. "You don't have to stay away completely. The occasional interruption, like this one, is fine."

"I don't want to delay you," Jak said, swallowing hard. "If it's my fault that we don't-"

"That's not going to happen," Denil cut him off. "You've done everything in your power - more than most people would. Interrupting me every five minutes will delay me, but dropping in at the end of the day won't."

"Neither will taking the occasional nap," Jak said with a gentle smile.

Denil flushed. "I sleep."

"If your mind gets fuzzy, you won't be doing anyone any good. You need to eat, too."

"I eat."

Jak looked pointedly at the mostly untouched tray of supper. Instead of arguing, Denil suddenly tugged hard on Jak's arm and he overbalanced, toppling forward so that he had to put one hand on the desk and the other on the back of Denil's chair to stop himself landing heavily on the floor. The position put his lips inches from Denil's and the scholar wasted no time in taking advantage. Denil wrapped a hand around the back of Jak's neck and tugged him the remaining inches until their lips met. There hadn't been a chance to kiss over the past week and Jak's eyes closed as soon as he felt the warm touch. They kissed slowly, reverently, relearning the touch and feel of mouths sliding together and the taste that Jak had been hungering for. Jak's arms began to shake under the strain of holding himself in the uncomfortable position, but he refused to back away until he felt Denil's fingers lightly stroking his face and the other man pulled away.

"I've missed that," Jak said softly, unable to hold the words in.

A lightning smile brightened Denil's face. "So have I."

Jak leaned forward and brushed his lips over Denil's. "Our timing sucks."

"Uh-huh."

Denil's fingers still rested lightly on his jaw but Jak finally had to give into the demands of his aching arms and back. He straightened reluctantly.

"I should . . ." Denil gestured vaguely towards his work. "It's late."

Jak nodded. "I should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah."

For a long moment he stared down at Denil, watching as the other man licked kiss-swollen lips and shook his head to clear it. A mask of detachment slowly dropped over Denil's face and Jak knew that it was time to go. He brushed a hand over Denil's hair before he walked to the door, looking over his shoulder once to see that Denil was already absorbed in his translation again.

Even though he had the key, it took Denil another two weeks to complete the translation of the slim book. Sai'em regularly brought him meals and forced him to eat them if too many were ignored. Jak sometimes ordered him to bed if he came home and found the scholar asleep at his desk but Denil rarely slept for long. There was a growing excitement that wouldn't allow him to rest as the book gradually gave up its secrets. His entire attention was focused on it to the exclusion of everything else, including the demands his own body.

Eventually, he turned a page and found that there were no more runes; the translation was finished. Denil sat back in his char and the weight of his exhaustion suddenly crashed down on him. The temptation to simply curl up in a corner of the study and sleep for three days almost overwhelmed him. He resisted, instead gathering up his papers and pushing to his feet.

Sai'em was sitting alone in the kitchen when he went in. The expression on his face must have told her that he'd finished the translation because a smile immediately lit her face and she stood to help him to a chair.

"Is Jak here?" he asked tiredly.

"He left an hour ago." She examined him closely. "Why don't you have a bath and something to eat while I send for him?"

A good scrub in a hastily heated bath and a plate of Elsa's chicken pie left Denil feeling refreshed and staved off some of the exhaustion. He was sitting in the kitchen with his second cup of liberally honeyed tea when the front door flew open and he heard Jak's footsteps in the hallway.

As Jak hurried into the room his eyes immediately found Denil's. There was a question in them, mixed with unmistakable fear, and Denil nodded with a slight smile. Jak closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath before opening them to give Denil a look that clearly conveyed his gratitude and relief. He kept his eyes locked on Denil's as he crossed the room, pulled Denil to his feet and enfolded him in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he whispered in Denil's ear.

Heat rushed to Denil's face as he was released and allowed to resume his seat. It was easier to concentrate on his mug than meet anyone's eyes until the flush faded.

Jak took his coat off and draped it over the back of a chair. There was an unspoken accord in the kitchen not to ask questions until everyone was settled. Elsa made a fresh pot of tea and brought out mugs for her and Jak before she sat down.

Denil could feel their eyes on him, which unaccountably made him nervous, so he took a deep breath before beginning.

"I've finished the translation," he said, trying to find an elegant way to begin.

"You've translated the entire book?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded. "It was a lot more complicated than I initially thought it would be. I tried to translate the Old High Elvish directly into Common but it just produced nonsense."

"What does it say?" Jak asked impatiently.

Elsa frowned at him. "Let the lad finish."

Denil smiled gratefully at the housekeeper. "The way the text was encoded gave me some information about the author of the book."

"Encoded?" Sai'em asked sharply.

"Encoded," Denil confirmed. "Old High Elvish was used mainly for official or technical texts, with the simpler Old Elvish used for personal correspondence, journals and so on. That meant the writers sometimes had to write words that had no translation in Old High Elvish - human words, mainly. Certain runes have a dual meaning - they're either translated normally or are used to roughly equal a human letter. If a certain determinative rune appeared at the beginning of a word, the rest of the runes in that word were translated as their human equivalent. This book was written completely in those runes, but the writer deliberately left out the determinative."

"So he knew some Old High Elvish," Sai'em reasoned.

"Probably. Enough to encode a human alphabet, anyway," Denil confirmed. "The text still made no sense in the transliterated format until I began trying cipher shifts. A shift of ten - A becomes K, B becomes L and so on - turned the nonsense text into a Bedaani dialect used around six hundred years ago and the rest was just a straight translation."

"Well done - but what does it say?" Jak asked again.

Denil forgave Jack the slightly obnoxious tone because he was obviously more worried about his son than politeness. "Whoever wrote this went to a lot of trouble to keep the information secret. Making any sense of this required knowledge of two fairly obscure languages and code breaking. The author was probably afraid that the contents might fall into the wrong hands."

"Such as the wizards," Sai'em said.

"Exactly. The author made some amazing discoveries and he couldn't simply destroy the information, but he was also worried about what someone might do with it."

When Denil paused to take a sip of tea, Jak gestured impatiently for him to continue.

"I'm not a wizard," Denil said, "so some of this went over my head, but he seemed to be describing his journeys through something called 'the planes'. He discovered that our world isn't the only one. There are hundreds of these other planes, some of them habitable and some not." Denil focused all his attention on Jak, sitting across from him. "The description of the portals he opened to travel to other planes exactly matches your descriptions of the vortex. I think the soldiers came from one of those planes and took Charry there."

All the blood seemed to drain from Jak's face. Denil watched him helplessly while Elsa silently poured a mug of tea and spooned honey into it. Jak took it and sipped it without a word, his eyes fixed on a spot on the table although he probably didn't see it.

Denil was so focused on his lover's pain that he barely heard Sai'em's whispered, "Hiyalam hai'a."

Jak did hear and his eyes immediately shot to Sai'em's. "What did you say?"

"Literal translation?" Denil said absently. "Holy Hiyalam."

"Elves need to learn to swear better," Jak said humourlessly.

"Can I see your notes?" Sai'em asked, ignoring Jak's comment.

Denil passed across the sheaf of papers unquestioningly, more concerned with Jak than scholarly discussion.

Elsa was more observant. "You know something, don't you?"

"Maybe," Sai'em murmured.

Jak turned his head in her direction. "Maybe?"

"In a minute."

Denil was in the unusual position of hearing that from someone else instead of saying it himself. He'd never realised just how annoying it could be.

"Well?" Jak said barely a minute later.

Sai'em was still frowning intently at the pages of notes.

"Have you got something?" Jak's voice became harsher. "Sai'em?"

Finally she looked up and said, "These are human spells."

"And? So? But? Therefore?"

Sai'em had already returned to reading the notes with a puzzled frown. Denil felt a cold chill as he realised what her words meant. He didn't want it to be true, but the way she had phrased it made his assumption the only one possible.

Elsa was the one who voiced what Denil couldn't. "You know elven spells that can do the same thing, don't you?"

Sai'em sighed and reluctantly raised her head. "In a way."

All trace of shock vanished from Jak's face, replaced by incredible anger. He stood and stalked around the table to glare down at Sai'em. Denil could see his fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly stopped himself grabbing the elf.

"You know something and you didn't say anything?" Jak said furiously, almost shouting the words. "The whole time, you recognised the spells? You could have saved me weeks of pointless waiting! I might have found my son by now if you hadn't lied to us!"

Sai'em raised her chin defensively. "I didn't recognise your description and I couldn't have helped you even if I had."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because only the Council has access to those spells!" Sai'em took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "No one has been permitted to use those spells for centuries. I only know that portals are possible because they're an important part of our history."

"You should have mentioned them!"

"Jak!" Elsa said sharply, before softening her tone. "Commander Kern, let the girl explain before you start throwing accusations around."

The former mercenary stayed where he was, gazing down at Sai'em with cold, hard eyes.

"Jak," Denil said softly.

That seemed to jerk Jak out of his single-minded focus and he looked up to meet Denil's eyes. Denil kept his face open and honest, knowing that right now the last thing Jak needed was someone trying to deny him the anger he was entitled to. If he was honest with himself, Denil wasn't feeling too comfortable either, aware that his old friend had omitted something that might have seriously consequences. It was more important, though, to find out what she knew. Maybe the information would explain her actions, or lack of them.

After a minute's silent communication Jak nodded and moved away from Sai'em, retaking his seat although he showed no sign of releasing his anger.

"Talk," Jak said tersely.

"I've already said more than I should," Sai'em said uncomfortably.

If it was possible, Jak's eyes hardened further. Denil decided to step in before things became physical.

"Circumstances have changed," he said.

Sai'em turned to him. "There are things I can't discuss with humans."

"Wouldn't you say that a child's life is more important than that?"

She paused for a long time, considering, while Jak's agitation visibly grew. Eventually, she nodded jerkily.

"What I tell you mustn't go further than these walls," she said.

"I won't tell anyone, you have my word on it," Denil promised.

Elsa murmured her agreement and Denil stared Jak down until he also consented.

"Elves aren't native to this world." Sai'em held up a hand to still their immediate comments. "Hear me out. We began on another plane a lot like this one. In fact, we would probably never have left if we'd had any choice."

Sai'em paused and sipped her tea. "Until around three thousand years ago we lived in relative peace in our own plane. My people were just beginning to explore the possibility of the existence of other planes. A few of the elemental creatures we summon during spells come from higher planes and some of our scholars theorised that there were other planes parallel to ours. Then there was a disaster. It was nothing short of a worldwide catastrophe. The earth began spewing out molten rock - great rivers of it - and new volcanoes appeared. There were tremendous earth-shakes and chasms appeared afterwards, allowing more lava to flow. It set off wildfires across the plains and forests. My people lived in the north, in the ice, and were unaware of the disaster for the first couple of months."

"Your world was tearing itself apart," Denil commented.

Sai'em nodded. "The surviving wood elves came north to beg for help - that was the first that my people knew of it. We spent too much time in our studies, too little in the world, and we still do. My people investigated and found that they couldn't halt or undo the damage to our world. The air was filling with poison and the destruction would eventually engulf even our most northern retreats. The only way to save our people was to find a new home. The theorists who believed in the planes discovered the spells to create portals and they explored through them. Most of the worlds they encountered were uninhabitable. This world was the first they found with higher life forms. Human physiology is similar to elf, so it was decided to flee here."

"Through the portals," Jak said.

"Yes. Fleeing to a world whose natives were similar to us seemed a sensible plan. With more time at their disposal my people explored further, hoping to find an uninhabited world that we could colonise. The experiments were stopped after a couple of years."

"Why?" Denil asked.

"The portals are dangerous." Sai'em paused, probably trying to find a way to explain something that was complicated even by the standards of her own people. "Each time one is opened, it creates a hole in the fabric of reality. When the portal is closed again, the hole is repaired. Over time, though, the repeated tears and repairs began to make patches of reality wear thin. The theorists weren't certain what would happen if one of those patches became too thin and they didn't want to risk finding out."

"So the portals were banned," Jak concluded.

"No one living has even seen one, must less opened one. The Council controls access to the only copy of the spells in existence. I don't even know what a portal would look like - just that they're possible. After the experiments were stopped, my people went north and the wood elves began to colonise the forests that covered a lot of the land at that time. We didn't want to give humans any reason to attack us so we've hidden our origins ever since."

"How accurate are your records?" Denil asked.

"The exodus was in my great-great-grandfather's time, so the books stayed fairly accurate."

"And they found no other intelligent species?"

Sai'em shook her head. "The conditions on most worlds were too harsh to allow much to thrive. The rest didn't support any higher life forms. There's no record of any intelligent creatures apart from the humans on this plane."

"Then who could have opened a portal to this house and stolen Jak's son?"

"Are you saying that we might be wrong?" Jak asked hoarsely.

"No, I'm more certain than ever that we're right. The wizard who wrote this described creatures that he met on one plane as human-like. I'd just like to know how they got there."

"There isn't much difference between you and the young lady," Elsa said. "Just your ears."

"We evolved on different worlds," Sai'em added. "It's possible that another life form like us evolved on a plane that my people didn't explore."

"There's only one way to find out," Jak said decisively. "We have to open a portal and follow them."

"It might not be that easy," Sai'em protested.

"Can you get the wizard's spell to work?" Jak asked, his voice flat.

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's a human spell. I can't work human magic."

A look of such bleak despair washed over Jak that Denil almost felt sick. How terrible would it be if, after all this work, their hope turned out to be in vain?

"I may be able to use his work to put together my own spell," Sai'em said slowly. "I'll be breaking several of my own laws, but we need to know who is using portals to access this world." She frowned uncertainly. "I can't guarantee anything, though."

"How long do you need?" Jak asked.

Sai'em thought for a moment. "I'll have an answer for you one way or the other in a day or so."

"Good enough."

She looked directly at Jak for the first time since her confession. "I am sorry. If I'd suspected that I had information that helped, I would have told you. I've broken a lot of laws today telling you what I have."

Jak didn't look at her, but he nodded curtly. "We'll talk again in one day."

Denil sighed and rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache starting and his exhaustion was making him fuzzyheaded.

Jak noticed the gesture. "Why don't you get some sleep? There's nothing more you can do for now."

Part of Denil wanted to stay and make sure that his lover was coping, but that part was outvoted by his exhaustion. He gave Jack a tired smile before leaving the kitchen and going upstairs where he collapsed on the bed in a foggy half-trance. He was asleep before he'd taken off his boots.

Jak spent most of the day resisting the temptation to go into the study and check on Sai'em's progress. He helped Paet with the horses until the lad chased him out of the stables and then spent the afternoon in the den, lying on a battered old sofa, reading a translation of 'Teblith and Corath' that he'd found on a bookshelf a few days ago. The book was more interesting than he'd expected, although the way Teblith allowed Corath to walk all over him was irritating. He'd have preferred a stronger, more stubborn partner who could stand up to Corath. Someone more like Denil.

It was early evening by the time he finished the book. Jak stood and stretched the kinks out of his back from the long hours of reading. His stomach growled hungrily and for the first time he realised that he hadn't eaten since a hurried breakfast just after dawn. Cups of honeyed tea were no substitute for proper food. With that thought in mind, Jak walked out of his den and his nose immediately twitched at the savoury smell of roasting meat. He followed the scent into the kitchen where he found Elsa humming quietly as she stirred something in a pot over the stove.

"I thought you'd be here soon," Elsa said without turning around. "You shouldn't miss meals, Commander. It's not healthy."

Jak grinned. "Yes, Mistress Tanner."

She snorted delicately. "I know that tone and you aren't getting away that easily. You'll do no one any good if you fade away to nothing."

"Has Denil been down?" Jak asked, hoping to head off a lecture.

The tactic worked. Elsa lifted the pot off the stove and put it on the kitchen table.

"I haven't seen the boy since this morning," Elsa said, her brown eyes betraying a hint of worry. "Haven't you checked on him?"

"He needed the sleep."

Elsa clucked sympathetically. "The boy was exhausted."

Jak hid his smile. Denil was only a few years younger than him but Elsa always seemed to take twenty years off anyone's age and treat them accordingly. She'd also developed a large soft spot for Denil, which was completely understandable, and a slightly smaller one for Sai'em, which was harder to understand. Thinking about the elf dampened some of his amusement and he had to remind himself that she seemed genuinely distressed that she'd inadvertently withheld important information.

Jak had to force some lightness back into his voice. "Could you make up a tray for Denil? He's probably hungry by now."

"Of course." Elsa gave him a sly grin. "Will you be eating with him?"

The look made heat rush to Jak's face and he had to work to keep his eyes on her face. Why could the woman make him blush about something that he usually wouldn't feel embarrassed about?

"Yes, I'll be eating with him," Jak said in the calmest tone he could manage.

Elsa nodded and began working quickly. In a couple of minutes Jak had a tray of covered plates and a flask of good red wine. He thanked her, ignoring the knowing smile, and carried the heavy tray upstairs. At the door to the bedroom he put the tray down on the floor and quietly opened the door so he could peek in and see whether Denil was awake.

The scholar was sitting propped up in the bed surrounded by flickering candlelight. He looked up from his book as the door opened and one of his quick, brilliant smiles crossed his face.

"I wasn't sure whether you'd be awake," Jak said.

Denil shrugged. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Over tired, probably."

"Hungry?"

A slightly surprised expression appeared. "Actually, yes."

"Stay right there."

Jak ducked back into the hallway and picked up the tray. He carried it into the bedroom and kicked the door shut before taking it over to the bed and putting it down. Careful not to disturb it, Jak climbed onto the bed and sat next to Denil. He took the covers off the two larger plates and handed one to Denil, keeping the other for himself. Slices of tender roast beef with thick gravy and Elsa's special mashed potatoes created an aroma that set his stomach growling. Jak balanced his plate on his lap, took a bowl of steaming vegetables from the tray to sit between them and handed Denil a knife and fork. For a while there was companionable silence as they concentrated on doing justice to Elsa's wonderful cooking. Jak was relieved; he didn't want to talk about the morning's revelations and Denil seemed to respect that. When they had cleaned their plates of even the last smears of gravy, Jak put them back on the tray and replaced them with smaller ones. Removing the covers on those plates revealed large slices of fruit pie and Jak discovered a dish of cream under the last cover.

"You have an excellent housekeeper," Denil said as he polished off the last crumb.

"Don't even think about it," Jak warned.

"Think about what?" Denil asked, blinking innocently.

Jak's eyes narrowed. "You know what - stealing my housekeeper and making her work in the kitchens at your university."

Denil didn't deny that the thought had occurred to him. "We could probably pay her more than you do."

"That's what scares me - you could probably buy half the countries around you if you wanted."

"We'd never do that."

"I know. You people are abnormal - most men with the wealth you have would use it to corrupt thrones and buy power. You people just sit on it instead."

Denil shrugged. "Value is in the eye of the beholder. The value of our collections, to us, is in the information the items contain. Their monetary value is completely irrelevant."

"Like I said - you people aren't normal."

Jak stacked his plate with Denil's and returned it to the tray. The flask of wine still sat there unopened so he picked it up and gestured invitingly.

"Care for a glass?"

Denil raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

The look on his face sent shivers racing down Jak's spine and heat curled low in his belly.

Jak had to moisten his suddenly dry mouth before he could speak. "I thought it might relax you so that you can sleep properly."

Denil took the flask from Jak's nerveless fingers. "I think there are better ways of achieving the same end."

As Denil moved the tray onto the floor and began carefully working at the lacings of Jak's shirt, it was obvious that he was doing his best to be seductive. Jak could have told him that he didn't need to make that effort - he was so damned beautiful that it was hard not to think about sex around him most of the time - but Jak decided not to. Their mouths met in a deep kiss that made the heat in Jak's belly bloom into aching need and, while he could still think, he decided that he was a lucky bastard to have someone like Denil in his bed.

The next morning, Sai'em checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before she left her room. Elsa was a goldmine for disguises; she had found brown, non-descript clothing cut in the Ventaxian style with only a few hours' notice. The boots pinched her toes uncomfortably and the fabric was scratchy, but it would suffice for a few hours. Even the fit wasn't too bad. The tunic didn't look too enormous when it was gathered in by a wide leather belt and the hem of her cloak reached her ankles instead of trailing on the floor. The deep hood could be pulled forward to hide her pointed ears and the Ventaxian name Jak had given her easily explained away the short blonde hair and breeches.

The house was quiet as she crept downstairs. Jak and Denil hadn't yet emerged and Elsa was drinking a cup of tea in the kitchen. Sai'em thanked her again for the clothes before leaving through the kitchen door into the stables. She had barely gone more than three paces before sandy-haired Paet was at her side with a bright grin.

"Will you be wanting Mya saddled, ma'am?" he asked eagerly.

Sai'em shook her head. "I need to be inconspicuous this morning and I'm afraid she draws attention."

"That she does, ma'am. I've never seen such a well-trained beast. Sometimes I could swear that she knows everything I'm saying."

"Do you have something I can borrow that's a little less noticeable?" She cut him off and redirected his thoughts quickly. Paet might have a problem with letters and numbers but he was definitely not stupid.

"I can saddle Scrub, if you'd like. She's not the prettiest thing, but she's calm and doesn't spook easily."

Sai'em smiled at him. "That sounds perfect."

The boy flushed and ducked his head before hurrying into the depths of the stable block. A few minutes later he returned with a chestnut mare that fitted her name perfectly. Her coat was thick and coarse and she had placid dark brown eyes.

"She's not really ours," Paet explained as he handed her the reins. "She belongs to the Watch but Commander Jak says that she's too old to be much use for duty now."

Sai'em held out her hand and allowed Scrub to sniff and nuzzle it. "She'll be fine, thank you."

It felt strange to mount a horse that was two hands shorter than Mya, and Scrub's gait wasn't as smooth. But it was only going to be for a few hours so Sai'em patted the mare's neck and nudged her into a walk. Paet ran ahead to open the gates and then they were out in the busy streets of Genta. Scrub wasn't skittish or jumpy, despite the bustling early morning crowds, but she didn't have Mya's training and Sai'em had to readjust to giving her a lot more direction than she usually gave Mya. They found the main gate out of the town with only a couple of wrong turns. The constables manning it seemed more attentive to their duty than the one Jak had reprimanded on their arrival. One took her papers and checked them carefully while another made notes in a large ledger before they let her out with a reminder that the gates would close at sunset. Sai'em nodded her thanks to them and Scrub obediently trotted out through the gate.

Without the protection of the buildings, a cold winter wind surrounded her and Sai'em couldn't help smiling as it blew away the smell of the town. It hadn't snowed for a few days so the road was now covered with packed down snow and the weak winter sun had softened the thin layer of ice on top. Sai'em encouraged Scrub into a canter and relished the feel of cold fresh air rushing past, streaming through her hair and biting at her skin. Her hood fell away but that didn't matter out here.

Sai'em reined Scrub in after a mile and allowed the mare to walk for a while. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the expanse of white fields until she saw what she was looking for. Scrub gave her a disgusted look when Sai'em tried to direct the mare off the road and refused to put one hoof onto the thick snow.

"I don't blame you," Sai'em said in Elvish. "How about if I help a little?"

The horse snorted. There was a small copse of bare trees a couple of hundred feet away that looked a little more inviting than the open fields.

"Is that more to your taste?" Sai'em asked.

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled off a glove and held out her hand. Creating heat had never been one of her talents - Sai'em blamed that lack on her ice elf heritage - so it took a while to melt a path through the snow that was wide enough for Scrub. The horse still wasn't impressed but she reluctantly stepped off the road, picking her way over the soggy brown grass and mud in a manner that suggested she was highly offended to be getting dirty. Sai'em dismounted at the trees and wrapped Scrub's reins loosely around a small sapling.

"If I give you some food and make sure you're warm, will you stay here for a while?" Sai'em asked in Elvish. "Or do I have to tie you up?"

Scrub flicked her ears thoughtfully.

"It's your choice."

The mare butted Sai'em's shoulder with her nose and the elf decided to take that as a 'yes'. Paet had supplied a nosebag filled with grain that Sai'em easily slipped onto the horse. Providing heat was trickier. Sai'em put up shields around the horse and carefully warmed the air within the shields. The energy patterns around Genta were still in flux due to the wizards' disastrous spell so it took a while to find a small, stable line to hook into. Sai'em was cursing the wizards by the time she had the spells tied off and powered by a trickle of magic from the small energy line. Scrub didn't seem worried about the spells surrounding her so Sai'em patted her neck and stepped out of the cocoon of warm air.

The thing that Sai'em had been looking for was about half a mile away and she walked over the snow without leaving a footprint. She wanted somewhere uninhabited and relatively isolated to try out her cobbled-together portal spell. Elsa had suggested this place, a long-abandoned temple well away from anyone. Most of it had fallen down centuries ago and the stones had been stolen for other buildings. Only a few piles of rubble and a couple of walls remained. Sai'em walked around the ruin examining the walls that still stood. One was plain and the mortar crumbled under her fingers. The other had two small archways that had probably been doors when the temple was still in use. That wall was still solid and the archways were both strong. Sai'em chose the smaller of the two and spent a while standing next to it with her bare hands on the stone so that she could absorb the feel of it.

When she was satisfied, Sai'em moved a few feet away and took a couple of steps to the right before sitting down on the snow. Cold water immediately soaked through her cloak and breeches and she pushed the discomfort away into a distant portion of her mind.

Denil's notes from the unknown wizard's book had been as complete as he could make them, but Sai'em had still been forced to make some educated guesses about some of the ideas. Due to the different ways that elves and humans accessed and used magic, the conversion of one spell type into another was not a simple one. Sai'em had extrapolated what she could, but the only way to find out whether it would work was to try it. She could only hope that she was far enough from Genta if the spell backfired.

The unknown wizard had not been able to create a portal without some form of doorway to anchor it. This was different from the historical accounts of portals and Sai'em had spent a couple of hours trying to puzzle out some way of creating a portal without a physical framework. In the end it had been easier to follow the principles of the human spell and worry about neatening it up later, if necessary. Although she was confident that a wooden frame would be strong enough to contain the spell, trying out the spell with a stronger frame at first seemed like a good precaution.

It had been a long time since Sai'em had attempted a great spell, but the old methods returned easily and she was in a light trance after a couple of deep breaths.

In that trance, the energy patterns around her became clearer and sharper. The chaotic, swirling energy where there should be order made her stomach lurch, almost knocking her out of the trance. Sai'em waited for a moment, taking deep, even breaths until the sensation passed. Eventually, she could see the ordered patterns underlying the confusion. Magic's normal lines and pools were slowly reforming, the chaotic power draining into them, and Sai'em knew in a distant part of her mind that they would be completely normal in a few more weeks.

She searched and tested the lines and pools until she found a suitable one and put a tentative 'finger' in it. The magic immediately began flowing into her. She opened herself to it and felt power infusing every inch of her body until her mind screamed with it and she was sure she would disintegrate from the pressure. It was a heady feeling of combined pain and pleasure so intense that for a moment she forgot who she was and why she was there.

That was the danger in this kind of magic; the temptation to lose oneself in the incredible rush until the body couldn't contain the power and burned up completely.

Sai'em clawed her way back to sanity and reminded herself of who she was, anchoring her mind to that fact. She slowed the inrush of power to a tiny trickle and pushed away the ecstasy that threatened to carry her away.

The power had to go somewhere. Sai'em focused on the stone archway and extended a tendril of power to it. The stone grudgingly accepted the power and she pushed more in. Gradually the stone was forced to accept the magic and tiny sparks began to fly off the surface. Sai'em kept feeding power in until the air within the arch was filled with sparks and tiny lightning flickers. Then she pulled and twisted at it and the spell came alive.

It demanded power and she had to supply it, feeling magic rush out of her as fast as it had rushed in.

The space inside the archway suddenly filled with light and boiled out in a wave almost like a stone dropped into water. Just as fast, the light fell back and stabilised into a rippling blue surface that filled the archway. The spell stopped reaching for power and slowed so that it only pulled a small dribble of magic from Sai'em.

She felt drained and exhausted but curiosity forced her to stand on shaky legs and walk over to the portal. The vortex shimmered hypnotically. Sai'em reached out to touch it and couldn't restrain a gasp as tiny waves rippled out on the surface from her fingers. Taking a deep breath, she plunged her hand into the portal and winced at the sudden shocking chill, colder than ice, which enveloped it. She pulled her hand out and turned it to check that it was still intact.

Sai'em considered stepping through the portal before reluctantly conceding that she had no idea where it would take her. Instead, she picked up a small stone and threw it through. There was no way to tell whether it landed safely on the other side, but Sai'em didn't feel any change in the spell, which was an encouraging sign.

With no more experiments to make and no way to test it further, Sai'em began carefully closing the portal down. One of the dangers in spells as powerful as portal spells was that, at a certain point, they took control and completed themselves. Casters who didn't have the power reserves to supply a spell could rapidly find themselves dying when the spell claimed their life force. Conversely, when a spell that powerful collapsed the magic it returned to the caster could burn them out if they weren't careful. Sai'em resumed her seat on the snow and carefully began unpicking the spell.

The sudden inrush of power as the portal closed left her panting and so full that she wanted to scream. Again the mix of pleasure/pain tried to pull away her sanity. Sai'em had to slowly allow the energy to run out of her and back into the pool she had taken it from rather than losing herself in it. She kept enough to replenish her personal reserves and cut the connection.

For a long time she sat on the snow while she imprinted the memory of what she had done as firmly as she could. When she finally surfaced from her trance, Sai'em was surprised to see that it was only mid-morning. She stood and moved over to the archway so she could press her hands to the stone. Immediately she could feel a difference and a slow smile spread over her face as she realised that the change was distinctive enough to act as an arrow to track the destination.

Denil was surprised to find that he was awake before Jak. The angle of the pale sunlight streaming into the bedroom showed that it was already late morning and Jak was still sleeping heavily. He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand so that he could watch Jak. It was odd to see Jak's face relaxed in sleep. There had been faint lines of tension on his face ever since Denil met him, but in sleep they smoothed out and he had a feeling that this was the way Jak normally looked.

Over the weeks that Denil had known him, he'd noticed that Jak rarely laughed. He chuckled quietly, made a strange barking grunt if he was amused by something ironic, but real laughter was rare. Even when he did laugh, Denil always had the feeling afterwards that he felt guilt about it. The strange part was that Jak had the kind of face that looked at though it laughed a lot. Denil was certain that, under normal circumstances, Jak was the kind of man who often laughed and joked to lighten tension and reduce other peoples' stress. He'd seen flashes of that Jak when the other man managed to forget, for just a moment, that his son was missing.

Maybe that was why Jak sometimes seemed so intense when they were making love. Was it a way to forget the pain for a while?

For a moment Denil felt sick as he contemplated the idea that their entire relationship was no more than a temporary distraction for Jak. Then reason reasserted itself as he remembered Jak's words on their first night together, that he had a personal code of not being involved with anyone he needed to work with. He wouldn't have broken that code for someone he was just using as a distraction.

Jak stirred and Denil put the unsettling thoughts aside. There were other, far more important things going on at the moment.

Jak rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. "Hey."

Denil smiled. "Hey."

"You're awake."

"Uh-huh."

"It's pretty late."

"Nearly noon, probably."

"Crap." Jak closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't normally sleep this late."

"You needed it."

Jak grunted noncommittally. "How are you feeling?"

"Not quite as tired as yesterday."

"Good."

Denil watched him a moment before leaning over and kissing him. A hand came up and rested on Denil's neck, holding him there so that Jak could lazily explore his mouth. It wasn't really a sexual kiss, more of a thoughtful greeting and reconnection. After a couple of minutes, Denil pulled away slightly, licking his lips unconsciously.

"Good morning," he said, surprised by the huskiness in his voice.

"Morning," Jak said solemnly before wrapping his arms around Denil and rolling them so that he was on top. "Much better."

"We should probably get dressed," Denil said half-heartedly.

"Probably."

This time the kiss was more purposeful, more deliberately arousing, and heat began to flow through Denil's body. He ran his hands down Jak's back, feeling muscles twitch under his fingers, and rocked up against him. Jak gasped and Denil trailed his lips down Jak's jaw to his throat.

"You feel good," Jak groaned.

Denil smiled against Jak's throat and rocked up again, eliciting another strangled gasp. It amazed him how a simple morning greeting could turn into something so intense with so little forethought.

Jak suddenly reared above him and paused, brown eyes burning intently. "I...you are...this..."

He trailed off and dove down for a fierce kiss that stole the breath from Denil's lungs. There was a moment of struggle before he let Denil roll them, reversing their positions and making them both hiss as the movement created delicious friction. Denil forgot where he was and why he'd been weakly protesting, becoming lost in the pleasure of the moment.

Some time later, Denil lay sprawled across Jak listening as his racing heart gradually slowed. He felt sweaty, sleepy and thoroughly drained, but the noon sun refused to let him rest.

"We really have to get up now," he said.

Jak heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You're a bad influence."

"Me?" Jak asked with mock outrage. "I hadn't slept past dawn for a long time until I met you."

Denil rolled off Jak and sat up. "I don't usually stay in bed until noon having sex. Then I met you."

"You probably sleep until noon after working through the night, right?"

"Well, yes."

"So there."

It was the most illogical argument Denil had ever heard and he could only shake his head helplessly. "We have to get up."

"I know."

It still took them another half hour to get out of bed, wash and dress. Denil thought that Jak took an undue interest in what he wore but he played along because the stress-lines on Jak's face seemed less pronounced this morning.

Eventually they left the room, only to stop at the sight of Sai'em sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Charry's room with her hands resting on the doorjamb. Tension immediately began to radiate from Jak in waves. Denil put a hand on his arm, unsurprised to find the muscles under his fingers clenched tightly.

Jak cleared his throat and, in a strangely mild voice, said, "Good morning."

Sai'em opened her eyes and turned to look at them. "Heyla."

"What are you doing?" Jak gestured towards the door.

Sai'em gracefully unfolded her legs and stood up. "I can open a portal to the plane that your son was taken to."

"You can? How? No, I don't need to know." Jak took a deep breath. "You're sure?"

"I think so."

"That doesn't sound confident."

"She's sure," Denil said. "It's a scholar thing - we don't like to give guarantees until we've seen for ourselves that something will work and repeated it several times."

"I opened a portal this morning," Sai'em said, her eyes shining with excitement. "It worked better than I'd hoped. There's a signature in the wood of this door." She lightly touched the doorjamb again. "If I open a portal here, I can use that signature to direct it and send the other end of the portal to wherever the first portal came from."

"And you're confident that it will work?" Jak asked.

"As confident as I can be without trying it. If I open a portal here and it doesn't work, the signature in the wood will be lost."

"So we won't know if we're going to the right place until we try it."

Sai'em nodded.

"It's good odds," Denil said.

"Best odds I've had so far." Some of the tension drained out of Jak and the muscles in his arm relaxed a little. "How soon can you get it set up?"

"I'd like to have a night to build up my reserves," Sai'em said. "It's been a long time since I worked spells on this scale."

"Tomorrow morning then."

"That will be fine."

Jak turned to Denil. "I have to sort things out at the Watch house. I'll see you later."

He'd given Denil a quick, hard kiss and rushed down the stairs before Denil could respond. He wasn't sure how he felt about such a public display, even if Sai'em was the only witness.

A suspicion of a smile twitched at the corners of the elf's mouth. "You look like a stunned trout."

Denil snapped his mouth closed.

"I think it's sweet," Sai'em added. "Sharra used to do the same thing to you."

When Denil didn't reply, Sai'em's expression sobered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to compare them - that's not fair."

It took a moment for Denil to find his voice. "I suppose some comparison is only natural."

"I know, but it's still not fair. To either of them."

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," Denil said, wincing as he saw hurt flare in Sai'em's eyes before being quickly masked.

She didn't argue and changed the subject. "What are you going to do now?"

"In the immediate future, I was thinking about breakfast."

Sai'em rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. When are you going home?"

Denil noted the use of the singular 'you' instead of 'we'. "I'm not, yet. I'm going with Jak."

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

"I take it that you are, too?"

"He won't be able to open a portal home if I don't go."

"When are you planning to tell him?"

"Probably just before we leave - it will give him less time to argue about it. You?"

Denil shrugged. "The same."

There was awkward silence as Denil tried to think of something to say and realised that everything he thought of revolved around issues that he didn't want to think about. From the expression on her face, he thought Sai'em was having the same problem.

Eventually, she cleared her throat and gestured to her bedroom door. "I guess that I'd better start making preparations."

Denil nodded jerkily. "I think I'd better do the same."

They hesitated uncertainly before nodding to each other and separating. Denil went straight to Jak's bedroom and began digging through his clothes pack. After a few minutes he reluctantly concluded that, although his clothes were fine for the relatively inactive life of a scholar, they weren't suitable for anything else. It would be unrealistic to expect that they could simply walk through the portal, grab Jak's son and return. The evidence in Charry's room showed that the soldiers who had taken him had some skill. To go to the trouble of building a portal to another plane to kidnap one boy indicated that someone wanted Charry badly and wouldn't give him up easily. There was a good chance that if they found the boy, they'd have to fight their way out.

Denil dug a pouch of coins out of the pack and counted them quickly, tucking the pouch inside his jacket with a satisfied pat when he was finished. He picked up his thick fur coat, pulled on his riding boots and left to find the markets.

Denil didn't see Jak again until late that night. He was reading in bed, contemplating calling it a night and going to sleep, when the bedroom door opened and Jak slipped in. Jak looked surprised to see him and Denil frowned before realising that Jak had probably assumed he'd be asleep. He carefully marked his book and put it on the floor.

"Did you get everything sorted out at the Watch house?" Denil asked.

Jak pulled off his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe. "I fired my deputy and asked my new deputy to mind the shop for a while. It's fine."

"What did you tell him?"

He took of his boots and tucked them under the bed. "I said that I was going on a trip, chasing up a new lead in Charry's kidnapping. Not strictly a lie."

"Will the story hold?"

"For a while." Jak's voice was muffled as he pulled off his shirt. "Depends on how long I'm gone and when the wizards start poking their noses into things again."

Jak padded around the room snuffing candles until the only light came from the fire in the hearth before getting into bed. Denil half expected Jak to reach out for him as he had most nights since they became lovers. Instead, Jak propped himself up against the headboard and stared at the fire.

"Will you be here when I get back?" Jak asked quietly.

It was the conversation that Denil had hoped they could put off until morning, but Jak obviously wasn't going to cooperate. He thought about fudging the truth and decided that it wasn't worth it.

"I'm going with you, Jak. Sai'em too."

The reaction was immediate. "No. Absolutely not. No way."

"We've already decided."

"Without consulting me?"

"We knew that you'd react this way."

"Of course I'd react this way! You can't come."

"How do you plan to get back here without Sai'em to open the portal?"

Jak deflated a little. "I don't know. Yet."

"You need her."

"And you? Why should I let you come?"

"I promised to help you find your son. That's not over yet."

"You've done what I hired you to do."

That stung and Denil glared at Jak. "Do you think this was about money?"

"Well, I-"

"This has never been about money. I was never going to take your money."

"So why are you here?"

"Because this is important."

"Denil, I..."

Jak reached out to touch him and Denil shrugged him off. "I thought you understood that. I've never needed the money - I'm here because you needed me."

"I don't need you to risk your life. We have no idea what's out there."

"I can take care of myself."

"Someone almost took your arm off the last time you said that."

"It could have happened to any one of us."

"It happened to you."

"I'm going with you," Denil said stubbornly.

"I wish you wouldn't."

Denil shrugged. "You'd don't always get what you wish for."

He abruptly turned away and lay down with his back to Jak to forestall any more arguments. There was a long period of silence in the room before he felt the bed shift as Jak also lay down. Denil resolutely closed his eyes and tried to sleep but there was too much tension in the room. Eventually, the bed shifted again and a hand lightly touched his upper arm before settling more firmly.

"Denil?" There was a heavy pause. "I didn't...it's not...ah, crap, I'm bad at this. I'm...you know..."

Denil smiled faintly into the darkness. "I know."

"Good. Wouldn't want my apology to be wasted on you sleeping."

"Jak."

"I know. It's just...that...I don't want you to get hurt."

"Could you stay behind if the two people you cared about most were going into danger and might not come back?"

There was a moment's stunned silence and then Jak cleared his throat. "I guess not."

"So."

"Yeah, so."

Then there was silence again as Jak spooned up behind Denil and wrapped an arm around Denil's waist. A few minutes later, the room was filled with two men's soft snores.

Jak's internal clock woke him at dawn and he lay in bed for a couple of minutes feeling half-formed eagerness set something fluttering in his stomach. Today, after so many months, he might finally see his son again.

The gathering anticipation wouldn't let him rest or stay still so he carefully rolled away from Denil and sat up. Somewhere in the back of his mind he still hoped that if he didn't wake the scholar then Denil would stay behind. Denil stirred sleepily as Jak got out of bed and crept out of the room.

By the time Jak returned from the privy, Denil had disappeared and Jak sighed. Leaving the scholar behind hadn't really been a realistic hope.

Jak shaved, changed into clean breeches and pulled on an old worn shirt. He got his boots out from under the bed and checked the knife-sheaths before putting them on. He'd cleaned and sharpened his sword last night and now he laid the belt out on the bed.

His mail shirt was wrapped in cloths at the bottom of the wardrobe. Although it had been years since he'd needed it, he had kept it clean and rust free so it now shone dully as he laid it out on the bed and checked it over. The padded undershirt had been tucked away in a drawer since he had last used it and released an odd rust/rose petal smell as Jak pulled it on. It was rust-splotched, patched and the strange smell made his nose itch, but the chain mail shirt would rub in uncomfortable places without it.

Hell, the mail shirt would be uncomfortable anyway, but every little gesture helped.

The smell had to be Elsa's doing - she always sniffed and wrinkled her nose if he wore armour. She'd probably hoped that the rose petals would overwhelm the ingrained rust/sweat stink.

Pulling on the mail shirt proved tricky. It was heavy and refused to move the way fabric did. Jak ended up struggling with the thing, his arms trapped overhead, until strong hands suddenly yanked it down. Jak shrugged his shoulders to settle it before looking up.

Denil took his breath away. For a moment Jak almost didn't recognise him. The man standing in front of him looked completely different from the man he'd gone to sleep with last night. His hair was much shorter and stood up in untidy tufts. It looked like he'd attacked it with a belt knife, which was probably what had happened.

"Jak?" Denil said uncertainly.

"You cut your hair."

Denil fingered it uncertainly. "Yes."

"Why?"

"It was in the way."

It wasn't just the hair. Denil's face seemed older. Maybe it was because the hair no longer framed it or maybe it was the determined expression, but he looked closer to the age Jak knew he had to be. He also held himself differently, somehow looking more aggressive and assertive than he had been. Jak knew it was just his personal impression - Denil hadn't been a retiring wallflower by any standards - but there was an air of resolve about him that was new.

As he looked closer, Jak realised that his hair wasn't the only physical change. Denil's threadbare, mismatched clothes were gone. Instead he wore a calf-length worn leather coat, an unbleached linen shirt and heavy brown breeches. There was a knife hilt poking out of one sturdy boot. His staff hung from his belt and he wore his wire spectacles. Denil looked more like an odd combination of fighter and scholar.

Jak abruptly turned away and began to pull on and lace up his surcoat.

"Jak?" Denil asked again.

"Why don't you go and ask Elsa to get some breakfast sorted out? We should all eat a proper meal before we leave."

There was a long silence before Denil quietly said, "Breakfast. Fine."

Jak waited until he'd left the room before taking a deep breath. It hadn't struck him until then just how much the idea of Denil getting hurt, or even killed, terrified him. It sent icy shivers down his spine and when he swallowed there was a sour taste in his mouth.

By the time Jak had put his long leather coat on and secured his sword-belt, his hands had almost stopped shaking.

Jak was slightly worried about how Denil was going to react after his strange behaviour in the bedroom. Denil seemed to think talking about things was important and Jak wasn't sure he could put his feelings into words. But one of the weird and great things about Denil was that he seemed to have a sixth-sense about people's moods. Jak gave him a hesitant smile as he walked into the kitchen, Denil smiled back, and everything was fine again. They ate breakfast in comfortable, companionable silence and Jak actually felt calmer by the time they finished.

Sai'em didn't join Jak and Denil for breakfast. Elsa took a plate of sausage and bacon sandwiches and a mug of tea up to her and reported on her return that the elf was 'absorbing' something in Charry's room. Jak wasn't sure how he felt about the elf being in Charry's room, but if it helped her to find the right plane then he wasn't going to object.

Jak and Denil didn't talk until the were at the door to Charry's room and Jak asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Denil nodded, the newly cut hair making his face look grimly determined. "I'm sure."

They locked eyes for a long moment and Jak had to bite back the words begging Denil to stay behind. Instead, he kissed Denil hard before walking into the room without a backward glance. A moment later Denil followed and Jak pushed all thoughts of relationships and feelings out of his mind so that he could focus completely on what they were about to do.

Sai'em was sitting in the middle of the room with the plate of sandwiches abandoned on the floor next to her. She opened her eyes when they entered and raised the mug she'd been holding to drink down the contents with a grimace.

The elf was also dressed for a fight. She wore the white leather coat and breeches she'd worn during the journey with a plain blue linen shirt. There were knife hilts poking out of the tops of her white boots and a sword at her hip. The white leather strap from the quiver of arrows crossed her chest and her strung bow lay across her lap. Jak suddenly realised that she looked dangerous.

"Is there anything we need to do?" he asked, putting that disquieting thought aside.

Sai'em shook her head and set her mug on the floor. "Just stand in the corner. The portal makes a sort of splash outwards when it first forms and I'm not sure what would happen to anything in its way."

Jak nodded and stepped around her to take up a position in one corner. Denil, white-faced, followed and for the first time Jak noticed that Sai'em was sitting a couple of feet to one side of the direct line to the door.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Jak asked.

"No, I'm not sure what would happen if you did."

"There seem to be a lot of things that you're not sure about. Should I worry?"

Sai'em shrugged. "It's up to you."

"That's reassuring."

She shrugged again and turned back to the door. Jak saw her take a couple of deep breaths and then she became strangely still.

"Any idea what's going to happen?" Jak whispered.

"No," Denil replied.

"I thought you'd have some experience."

"She's used more magic on this trip than I've seen her use in all the years I've known her."

"She really doesn't like magic, does she?"

"I think she sees it as cheating."

"Cheating?"

Denil shrugged. "Her explanations usually go over my head."

That, oddly, made Jak feel better. If Denil didn't understand most of Sai'em's work and explanations, then it wasn't just Jak being stupid.

The atmosphere in the room changed. It felt as though the air was suddenly heavy with energy, reminding Jak of that strange electricity that had filled the room when Sai'em tried to heal Denil. The elf hadn't moved but there was tension in her shoulders now. A moment later, she made a soft grunt, almost a gasp, and the air became even thicker. A flicker at the corner of his eye redirected Jak's attention and he looked towards the door. Tiny sparks of lightning were dancing up and down the wooden frame, sometimes streaking off into the empty space inside it. As he watched, the flickers of lightning increased until the doorframe was alight with brilliant, sparkling light. The light suddenly rushed into the centre of the frame, creating a sold sheet of plate blue, before splashing out just as Sai'em had said it would. The splash was accompanied by a loud whooshing noise before the light fell back and stabilised into a bright blue, gently rippling surface.

Sai'em slowly stood up and turned. There was a slightly glazed look in her eyes, probably the effect of holding the spell, Jak reasoned.

"We should go now," she said in a strangely flat voice.

Her odd behaviour persuaded Jak that leaving right now was a good idea. Sai'em looked strained and detached all at once, as though she was fighting an internal battle while also trying to keep a focus on the external world. Jak heard a quiet 'click' and noted out of the corner of his eye that Denil had extended his staff. The scholar obviously had good instincts. Jak unsheathed his sword and walked towards the shimmering portal. Putting just the tip of his sword in didn't seem to disturb the portal so Jak took a deep breath and stepped through.


	3. Serpent in the Shadows: Part 3

Shocking cold enveloped Denil. It was beyond cold, so intense that it should be painful but there was no body to feel pain with. He was being torn apart and remade at the same time. Bright lights rushed past and something inside screamed. There was nothing to see or feel apart from the light and the incredible, impossible cold. He would fall forever and never land. Time stood still and rushed on. The cold consumed thought and emotion until there was just a frozen core.

As suddenly as it began, it was over and Denil discovered that he was lying shivering on a stone floor. He managed to roll over, away from the portal, a moment before Sai'em tumbled through. Denil couldn't move, could barely breathe, and his entire body seemed to be locked in bone-deep shivers. He wanted to throw up, but his muscles wouldn't unlock to let him.

With a quiet roar the portal winked out and Denil was left in semi-darkness.

Eventually, the shivers began to ease and Denil cautiously moved his head, reassured when the world didn't lurch around him. He could just make out that he was lying on the floor of a chamber lit by a single flickering torch. There was a quiet feminine grunt to his left that he hoped was Sai'em.

"Everyone alright?" Jak asked, his voice sounding strangely rusty. "Nobody broke anything?"

Denil took a deep breath and managed to say, "I'm fine."

"Same here," came Sai'em's voice.

There was a quiet groan from Jak's direction. "What in hellfires was that?"

"I'm not sure," Sai'em said. "Denil's notes didn't mention side-effects."

"Maybe the wizard forgot to mention them," Jak said.

"More likely it's because I'm working with a spell that's been bolted together from theory and a human spell."

"I suppose there's no way to make the trip home smoother?" Jak asked.

"Not without giving me some time to experiment and an army of testers."

"Don't bother. You know how to get us home, right?"

"As long as I cast the spell from this chamber, yes."

Denil decided that it was time to risk sitting up and it proved to be much easier than he'd anticipated. Sai'em was already standing up, bow in hand, stalking around the chamber. Jak was sitting, shaking his hands as though he was trying to restore the circulation. He must have noticed Denil watching; he looked at him and sent Denil a small, lopsided smile.

"Cold?" Jak asked.

"Getting better."

The staff lay a couple of feet away. Denil reached out for it, the wood surprisingly warm under his fingers despite the passage through the portal, and used it as a prop to clamber to his feet. Jak was on his feet a moment later and the three companions took a short break to pace around the small chamber, walking off the remnants of the portal's cold.

The portal had formed in a stone archway that stood separately from the walls. It looked as though it had deliberately been built that way and Denil stopped in front of it.

A minute later he felt Jak stop at his side. "See anything interesting?"

Denil cocked his head. "I'm not sure. I think this archway might have been specifically built to contain portal spells."

"I see what you mean," Jak said after a pause.

Denil bent a little closer to the stone arch and traced some markings. "These look like runes."

"Elvish?" Jak asked sharply.

"Similar. Not a dialect I'm familiar with, though."

There was only one way out of the chamber, a wooden doorway opposite the archway.

"It might be barred on the other side," Jak said dubiously. "That's what I'd do."

Strangely it wasn't and Jak opened it a crack to peek through.

"Is there anyone out there?" Sai'em asked softly.

"Corridor's clear," Jak answered equally quietly. "Let's - crap, guards."

Denil held his breath as the rhythmic sound of heavy, marching footsteps filtered through. Jak closed the door and pressed his ear against it, nodding after a long, breathless pause to let them know that the soldiers had gone past without stopping to check the room.

"What did they look like?" Denil asked, trying to recall the descriptions from the book.

"Big," Jak said succinctly. "Lots of armour. Tattoos on their cheeks and they were carrying weird staff things. Kind of like yours, only they flared out at the top."

"Were they the same soldiers who took Charry?"

"Yeah, except those guys had swords instead of staffs. I counted six on that patrol."

"What kind of armour did they have?" Sai'em asked.

"Mail shirts, breastplates and a high collar. You'll have to be damn accurate with that bow if you're going to take any out."

Sai'em smiled grimly. "I can be."

Jak eased the door open again and cautiously looked through the crack. Satisfied that the corridor was empty, he opened it wider and slipped through. Denil followed and Sai'em brought up the rear.

"Any idea which way is best?" Jak asked.

The corridor was wide enough for three men to walk abreast and dimly lit by widely spaced torches. It disappeared into shadow in both directions with a couple of doors leading off it. Denil shrugged and glanced at Sai'em, who was frowning slightly.

"I can feel magic in that direction," she said slowly, pointing to their right. "It's faint and it has a signature that I don't recognise. It might be an elf, but I can't be sure."

"Could it be a problem?" Jak asked.

"I don't know. It's worth investigating, though."

Jak nodded and set off down the corridor in the direction Sai'em had indicated. Denil followed, hoping no one else could hear his racing heart, and Sai'em took the rear on soundless feet. Her white coat and breeches gleamed in the darkness and Denil briefly wondered why Jak hadn't insisted that she change into something less conspicuous before dismissing the thought.

They didn't run and they didn't creep, instead walking down the corridor at a steady pace, ready to flee or fight if they heard a patrol coming. At the end of the corridor, Sai'em pointed out the direction. The corridors all looked the same and they twisted and turned until, after a few minutes, Denil had no idea where they'd come from. There was an almost imperceptible slope to some of the corridors and their direction always seemed to take them up. Once they heard a patrol of soldiers and managed to hide in a chamber of moth-eaten cushions before the soldiers spotted them. When they continued, Jak stopped to test every few doors. A few of them were locked, but most led into empty storage rooms or barracks. The place seemed unnaturally empty.

After a few minutes, the corridor they were following abruptly came out on the landing of a winding stone staircase. Sai'em hesitated for a moment before gesturing upwards and Denil followed Jak with nerves strung tight with tension. If they encountered a patrol now, there would be nowhere to hide and they would be at a huge disadvantage in a fight. Miraculously, the stairs stayed as empty as most of the corridors below. Denil blinked hard as he rounded one of the curves and the light suddenly brightened. A few more steps and then they were out in a wide corridor lit by mage lights.

Almost at the same moment, a patrol of soldiers came around the corner at the other end of the corridor twenty feet away. Jak swore and Denil felt a slight breeze stir his hair as one of Sai'em's arrows sped past him and buried itself in the lead soldier's forehead. Another arrow took out a second soldier before they had time to react and then the soldiers were roaring a foreign war cry and running towards them.

Jak and Denil took a couple of steps forward to give themselves some manoeuvring room away from the top step and Denil shifted his grip on his quarterstaff ready for a blow that never came.

A ball of brilliant blue energy exploded from the flared tip of a soldier's staff and hit Denil full in the chest. There was a moment of agonising pain before his vision went black and he passed out.

* * *

Jak was being dragged down a corridor between two large soldiers. He kept trying to stand or walk, anything so that he wasn't being dragged so uncomfortably, but his legs wouldn't do what he told them to. He'd lost consciousness for a few minutes after an energy bolt hit him and now his head throbbed and his stomach rolled queasily with every movement. So far he was the first to wake up despite being the last to get hit. Sai'em was being carried by another solder ahead of him, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes so that her head bounced off his back with every step. Jak could hear another body being dragged behind him that he hoped was an unconscious Denil and not a dead one.

The thought made cold shivers run down his spine.

This corridor was busier than any other had been. They passed two patrols as they went and several servants in red and gold livery. The servants appeared human and they scuttled past with downcast eyes. Jak noted that they had the same black tattoos on their cheeks as the soldiers: a stylised snake.

The corridor ended in a pair of wide double doors guarded by two soldiers wearing red enamelled versions of the other soldiers' armour. The guards crossed their staffs as the other soldiers approached and issued a challenge in a harsh, clipped tongue that Jak didn't understand. The soldier carrying Sai'em answered in the same language and the two guards lowered their staffs and pushed the doors open.

The vast hall beyond was filled with talk and laughter that quickly died down so that Jak and his captors proceeded down the centre in near silence. Jak was vaguely aware of passing several tables filled with richly dressed people but all his attention was focused on the raised dais at the end of the hall.

It held a long table with only two people sitting at it despite the numerous plates of food. Seated on a large throne-like chair was an almost repulsively pretty man. He had short, black, tightly curled hair and olive skin. His nose was aquiline and his dark eyes were lined with kohl. Rich robes glittering with gold thread proclaimed his importance to everyone. He wasn't the one who captured Jak's gaze, though.

No, Jak stared at the boy sitting next to him on a chair that was almost as grand. The boy had sandy blond hair almost to his shoulders that gleamed in the light from the mage-lights. Familiar hazel eyes swept over Jak but didn't seem to recognise him. The boy's eyes were rimmed with kohl and his silver-threaded robes were almost as elaborate as the ones that the man next to him wore. He was at once heartbreakingly familiar and utterly foreign.

"Charry," Jak whispered as he was dragged to the foot of the dais.

The boy stiffened but there was no other sign that he'd heard Jak.

The soldiers unceremoniously dropped Jak and it was all he could do to remain on his knees instead of sprawling on the stone floor. He heard a muffled grunt as Denil was dropped next to him but Sai'em remained worryingly still and silent when she landed a couple of feet away.

A slight, arrogant smile crossed the lips of the man on the throne and he asked a question in a strange, metallic, grating voice. The question was in the same language that the soldiers had used so Jak stared at him blankly. The smile stayed plastered on the man's face as he stood, walked around the table and stepped down one of the steps leading to the dais.

"Where did you come from?" the man asked in that unnatural voice.

Jak said nothing.

"Answer me!"

Still Jak was silent.

The pretty man shrugged. "No matter. I can guess. The elf brought you. My cousins have decided to interfere again."

There was a flash of irritation on his face when Jak stubbornly refused to answer, but it was gone in a moment.

"Why did you come?" the man mused. "Why would the elf bring two humans to my realm?"

Jak finally spoke. "To find my son."

One eyebrow rose elegantly. "Your son? And why, please tell me, would you believe that your son was here?"

He followed Jak's eyes to Charry and his smile widened. "So you're the human..." He chuckled unpleasantly. "Boy, who is your father?"

Charry didn't look at Jak. "You are, Lord Ayulphel."

"And do you recognise this man?" Ayulphel asked, gesturing to Jak.

Charry's eyes flickered to Jak for a bare moment. "He...looks like a man I once knew. A long time ago."

Ayulphel turned back to Jak. "There, I hope that has cleared up any confusion."

"You lying-"

The man stepped down and backhanded Jak with surprising strength before he could finish. Jak tasted coppery blood in his mouth.

"I am Lord Ayulphel, God of this domain," Ayulphel shouted.

For a moment his eyes flashed with a bright light. Taken with the unnatural grating voice Jak had to admit that he was certainly not human, although he wouldn't accept that he was a god no matter how many miracles he performed.

"You're a lying, deluded-"

This time it was a soldier who clouted Jak around the back of his head and sent him sprawling.

"Take the humans to the mines," Ayulphel ordered. "Collar the elf and put her with the other one. She may be useful."

Jak kept watching Charry as he was dragged away, even when his son smiled up at Ayulphel and the arrogant creature ran his hand through Charry's sandy blond hair.

* * *

As Sai'em slowly came around, the first thing she was aware of was throbbing pain in her head. It pulsed with the rhythm of her heart, chasing fragmented thoughts away every time she tried to piece together why she was feeling that way. There were images of a fight and strange soldiers and then nothing.

Something cool and wet was suddenly pressed over her forehead and the pain receded a little. A soft voice murmured words that she couldn't quite hear as someone wiped her face with deliciously cool water.

Eventually the unknown voice said, "I know you're awake."

It took Sai'em a minute to register that the voice was speaking Elvish with the slight drawl of a wood elf. That struck her as odd, but for a moment she couldn't place why. Then memory returned with brutal clarity.

The portal. Jak's son. Corridors. The fight and a bolt of energy hitting her in the chest.

Sai'em struggled to sit up and fell back with a groan when the room seemed to spin around her and her stomach threatened to expel its contents.

"Jak, Denil," she muttered, swallowing hard several times. "Where are my friends?"

"I don't know where your friends are, _akasha_. You were the only one they brought in."

Sai'em cautiously opened her eyes, wincing as the light sent spikes of pain through her head. A few deep breaths got the pain under control and she tried to sit up again. Warm hands steadied her, although the room still spun dizzily and Sai'em nearly lost the contents of her stomach again.

"Hey, easy now," the voice said gently. "It's probably easier if you don't move too much for a while."

Sai'em shifted slightly and groaned when the room lurched again.

"Here, let me help," the kind voice said.

With a lot of help from the stranger, Sai'em managed to get half propped up against something that yielded slightly beneath her shoulders. She twisted to find out what she was leaning against and found rough grey fabric a few inches from her nose. Obviously she was leaning against someone's outstretched legs. Her eyes slid upwards, taking in narrow shoulders, a pale thin face surrounded by dark red hair, and finally locking with friendly brown eyes that seemed strangely out of place here.

"Hello," the strange woman said.

Sai'em found that she was automatically returning the weak smile. "Uh, hi."

The woman brushed a hand through Sai'em's hair and she realised that this must be the person who had bathed her forehead with cool water.

The assumption was confirmed when the woman asked, "How do you feel?"

"Not great," Sai'em replied truthfully.

The woman nodded. "There seems to be some difference between elf and human physiology that makes us react much more violently to the stunners. Most full humans only get knocked out for a few minutes."

"How long have I been out?"

"A couple of hours. The worst of it should wear off over the next day or so."

"How do you know?"

The woman tucked a lock of hair behind a pointed ear. "I've had a bit of experience."

* * *

Jak's hands were already starting to ache and he could feel a couple of blisters starting to form under the calluses he'd acquired from years of sword work. He could only imagine how Denil, unaccustomed to this kind of physical work, was feeling.

They had been dragged through a series of long corridors after leaving Ayulphel's banqueting hall. Then there had been flights of stairs, twisting and turning until Jak was thoroughly disoriented. The mines seemed to be under Ayulphel's castle, but it was difficult to be sure because he hadn't seen a window or a hint of anything apart from endless corridors since he'd arrived. The strange soldiers had stripped Jak and Denil of all their weapons and handed them pickaxes before pushing them down a long, roughly hewn mineshaft. Luckily, they had both recovered enough from the energy bolts from the soldiers' staffs to get down the mineshaft without help. Jak had no doubt that they would have been dragged again if they hadn't been capable, and probably beaten if they hadn't been able to wield the pickaxes. He'd already seen two slaves beaten for not working hard enough.

Slaves.

There was no doubt in Jak's mind that that was what he and Denil were now considered to be. The men hacking at the rock face around him all had the beaten, defeated expression that he had seen on the faces of the slaves that Wolf Company had once been hired to rescue. They wore rough brown or grey tunics and breeches in various degrees of raggedness and a few had leather boots while the rest wore canvas rags tied around their feet. Jak and Denil were the best dressed of the lot.

The tattoos on the cheeks of most of the men emphasised their status and Jak was beginning to wonder whether the soldiers were also higher status slaves. Many of the miners had the stylised rearing snake tattoo of the soldiers, but some had a variety of other designs. So far Jak hadn't worked out a pattern to the tattoos.

He had worked out some of the organisation down here, though. A few soldiers patrolled, carrying their staff weapons. Any worker taking an unauthorised break received a solid clout from the staff, although the soldiers hadn't yet used the stunning bolts on anyone. Children too young to wield a pickaxe ran about with cups of water for the workers or carried away baskets of rock for sorting somewhere else. There seemed to be an emphasis on maximum production while keeping slaves alive so Jak was hopeful that they would be rested and fed eventually.

Rest was something he needed soon. The mail shirt was an uncomfortable, heavy weight dragging at his shoulders. Each swing of his pickaxe seemed harder than the last and he couldn't spare the time to check how Denil was faring. Sometimes he caught a glance of the scholar out of the corner of his eye, just long enough to note the exhausted set of his shoulders, but there was no way to make sure that Denil was coping without drawing attention from the patrolling guards. The last thing that Jak wanted was soldiers keeping a closer eye on him while he tried to formulate an escape plan.

Jak was trying to muster the energy to lift his pickaxe for another swing when the sound of a deep horn reverberated through the mineshaft. Around him the slaves immediately dropped their tools. Jak considered trying to hold onto his axe until he noticed a solider watching him with a small, cruel smile while he fingered his staff. He dropped the axe and joined the rest of the slaves as they trooped up the mineshaft.

Someone touched Jak's hand and he almost swung out until he realised that Denil had moved up next to him. Denil's face was so pale it was almost grey and he was streaked with dirt. Jak had a feeling that his own face was almost as bad. Nevertheless, seeing Denil's face calmed him a little and Jak began to feel slightly more hopeful. He smiled and Denil smiled back. Jak told himself that he was taking Denil's hand to show the other slaves that they were both spoken for. He almost believed it.

* * *

Sai'em had no idea how long she spent drifting in and out of restless sleep. Her cell - there was no way the room could be anything else - was lit by pale mage-lights that never dimmed or darkened so it was impossible to keep track of time. Each time she woke up there was a warm hand stroking her hair or putting a cooling cloth on her forehead to ease the insistent ache. It couldn't be comfortable for her benefactor, but the woman never complained or looked annoyed. There wouldn't have been much that Sai'em could have done if she had. For the first few hours, the room spun every time she moved and the only thing that kept her resisting the nausea was the thought that she'd have to move to throw up.

Eventually, she woke up and found that the pain in her head had faded to a faint dull ache. Sai'em experimentally moved her head and the room stayed steady. Feeling bolder, she carefully rolled and sat up.

"Feeling better?"

Sai'em turned to look at the woman who had nursed her for several hours. The new angle allowed her to take in more than she'd been able to before. The woman was a few inches shorter than Sai'em with the characteristic delicate features of an elf, but she definitely didn't seem frail. Her hair was probably bright auburn normally, but it hung in dull red-brown tangles to her shoulders. Sai'em took in the hair, the brown eyes and the accent and decided that she had to be a wood elf despite the unnatural pallor. Instead of a healthy tan, her skin had the grey-white tone of someone who hadn't seen the sun for a long time. Her rough, frayed canvas tunic and breeches and bare feet were the final proofs that she was as much a prisoner as Sai'em.

The woman frowned slightly, worry easy to read in her eyes. "If you're not recovered-"

"I'm feeling much better," Sai'em cut in. "Thank you."

A slim shoulder shrugged. "I didn't do much."

Sai'em allowed a small smile to curve her lips. "You just let me use you as a pillow and tried to ease my headache. No, not much."

An answering smile tugged at the corners of the other woman's lips. "Anyone else would have done the same."

There was an awkward silence before Sai'em held out her hand and said, "Sai'emanthadrellan á Jacrodellané. Sai'em."

The other woman hesitated for a moment before taking Sai'em's hand and touching it to her forehead. "Jyani."

Sai'em raised a curious eyebrow and the other elf ducked her head.

"What I was...before...doesn't seem important anymore. It's just Jyani now," she explained.

Sai'em didn't really understand, but she let it pass. For an elf to abandon part of her name was as though she had abandoned a part of herself; an elf's name described her and grew with her. The eldest had names that required several pages to write.

"How long have you been here?" Sai'em asked.

Jyani raised her head and cocked it thoughtfully. "When I...left, Gareyanium Foxwater had just taken her seat on the Council."

Sai'em did a quick calculation in her head. "That was fifteen years ago."

"Oh. Is that all?" Jyani's voice didn't betray any surprise, only weary acceptance.

"Why haven't you escaped?"

Jyani tugged down the neck of her tunic to reveal a black collar. It seemed to be made of metal that had an oily sheen and was cleverly constructed of overlapping plates that moved like a second skin. Sai'em unconsciously reached up and was surprised to feel skin-warmed metal under the collar of her own shirt.

"You won't be able to cast any spells without Ayulphel's permission and there are spells on the cell-door to stop us picking the lock if we had anything to pick it with." Jyani gestured around the cell. "We're stuck here at Lord Ayulphel's command and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it."

A quick scan of the cell didn't show Sai'em anything she could use to escape with. It was bare apart from a pile of blankets in the corner. She tried to reach out to the energy fields that she could feel around her, but nothing happened.

"I tried at first," Jyani said. "Ayulphel seems to know exactly what we're capable of."

"Who is he?"

Jyani was distracted from answering by the sound of a lock turning. Sai'em turned to the door in time to see a soldier enter with a staff aimed straight at them. They couldn't hope to overpower him before he got them both with one of the stunning bolts. Another soldier followed and set a tray down in the middle of the cell floor and then they both backed out, locking the door behind them.

"Did you notice their tattoo?" Jyani asked.

Sai'em nodded. "It looked familiar, but-"

"Just think back. Concentrate. It will come to you."

Looking inward, Sai'em pictured the stylised snake in her mind and tried to match it to a memory. It had been a long time ago, many years, and she hadn't been paying attention very closely. History had never been a strong point...

Sai'em felt sick horror settle into the pit of her stomach. "But..."

Jyani just watched impassively.

"It's impossible," Sai'em whispered. "We wiped out the plains elves twenty-five centuries ago."

* * *

The large room the slaves had been taken to for the night was cold and lacked anything resembling beds. Instead, each slave had been handed a blanket and a bowl of tasteless grey mush that masqueraded as food. It was lit by mage-lights high in the ceiling that dimmed suddenly half an hour after they arrived. Jak noted that he and Denil weren't the only ones to work out that two men under two layered blankets were warmer than one man under a single blanket. Occasional muffled grunts from dim corners indicated that not everyone was sleeping and Jak grimaced. No matter how desirable Denil was, nothing could ever induce him to have sex in a room filled with sweaty, dirty slaves.

Denil was curled on his side with Jak spooned up behind him. He had refused to let Jak see his hands, but the way he gingerly held his bowl and blanket told Jak that Denil's hands had blistered painfully. The scholar simply wasn't cut out for this kind of work. Jak's hands weren't in wonderful shape, but he was confident that the worst of the throbbing would be gone by morning and his calluses had protected his hands from serious damage.

The tension in Denil's body betrayed his pretence of sleep. Jak was going to let him carry on pretending until Denil whispered, "Have you come up with a plan yet?"

Jak sighed quietly. "No."

"I don't regret coming with you. I just thought you should know that."

"I know you don't. I regret letting you come, though. This isn't something that you're built for."

Denil shrugged a shoulder. "I'm fine."

Jak knew that was a lie, but it was a harmless one and if it helped Denil to cope then he would let it go.

"Why would Ayulphel have taken your son?" Denil said thoughtfully.

"Maybe he really is Charry's father." It was a painful thing to admit, but Jak had to concede that it was possible. "Anaya didn't tell me anything about his father. I always had the feeling that it was something she didn't want to remember. I certainly wouldn't want to remember sex with that...that thing."

"It's possible, but unlikely. I didn't see any resemblance."

"Not every son looks like his father."

"True. I still doubt that Ayulphel is Charry's father. There must be something else."

"I'll ask him while I'm wringing his scrawny neck," Jak said dryly. "It's a vital part of our escape plan."

Jak was surprised to feel a stifled snort of laughter from Denil.

"I might actually help you with that - there was something distinctly repulsive about him. He made my skin crawl."

"I thought you were out of it in the hall."

Denil shook his head. "I was groggy, but not completely out."

It was odd how easy it felt to talk to the back of Denil's neck. Jak was sure that he wouldn't have been this candid if he'd been looking into Denil's eyes and he was equally sure that Denil wouldn't have talked so honestly either.

"I think the founders of this society might have been elves, or related to them at least," Denil said suddenly.

"Why?"

"The language they're speaking - it's a very corrupted dialect of Old Elvish."

"Can you understand anything?"

"The language has shifted a lot. I can pick out a few words, but some have changed too much to be sure of the meaning and there are words in there that I don't recognise at all. If I could listen to it for a few days or see it written then I might be able to translate properly, but it's a very corrupted version of a language that hasn't been in regular use for centuries."

"I guess we'll have to ask Sai'em about them. If we ever find her again."

Jak regretted the words as soon as he spoke them, but it was too late to take them back.

Denil apparently found it easier to ignore them completely rather than start a conversation neither of them wanted to have. "I think one of the guards has been watching me."

Jak stiffened, forgetting all about elves and mysteries as nasty memories from his mercenary days flooded his mind. "Oh?"

"Not like that." Denil craned his neck to look at Jak for a moment. "Definitely not like that. You've been glowering at anyone who comes within twenty paces of me - I think everyone understands that I'm not on the market unless they want a painful end."

It was a fair accusation so Jak didn't protest. "How has he been looking at you then?"

Denil settled back and inched closer to Jak. "Thoughtfully. I'd be inclined to say curiously. It's as though he's trying to work something out."

"Which one is it?"

"The big one with dark skin. His tattoo looks like a scar under the ink."

"I think I know the one."

"Jak, I think he might be the key to getting out of here. So far everyone else is ignoring us - he isn't."

"He could also be working out how to get you into a darkened corner for a private chat, if you get my meaning."

"I'm sure that isn't it. If it were any of the other guards then I'd be inclined to agree, but there's something else in his eyes. He almost looks sympathetic."

Jak turned it over in his mind, trying to match up Denil's words with the big soldier. There was something different about him, but it was difficult to be sure what that was. At the end of the day, though, this was the first thing approximating a lead on an escape plan that he'd seen.

"Try to get his attention tomorrow," Jak said reluctantly.

"What?"

"The guard. Try to look open or something. See if he starts a conversation and keep him talking."

"You want me to use him."

"If necessary - we're just fishing for information at this point. Tell him anything he wants to know and maybe he'll let something useful slip."

There was a long pause before Denil nodded sharply and said, "Alright, I'll try."

"Good man. Just don't let him lure you down any deserted corridors."

* * *

The grey paste - it didn't deserve the title of 'porridge' - tasted worse than it smelled and the hard biscuits they were given to scoop it up with weren't much better. It was accompanied by a couple of flasks of water with cups that didn't break no matter how hard Sai'em tried, and a dish of wrinkled raw vegetables. Jyani ate it all quickly and neatly, not wasting a crumb, and Sai'em managed to choke some down before giving up and pushing her bowl aside. The water tasted slightly metallic, but it was better than none at all. Jyani eyed Sai'em's bowl hopefully and she pushed it towards the other woman with no regrets.

"So, how did plains elves get here?" Sai'em asked, watching Jyani scoop up the evil smelling grey gunk. "They couldn't have created portals, not with their magic."

"We sent them," Jyani said through a mouthful of biscuit.

"What?"

"Well, not 'we' we. Slaves. Ice and wood elves."

"How? None of our people were captured."

Jyani carefully licked her fingers and put the empty bowls back on the tray. "So the records say."

"Are you saying that the records lied?"

"Not intentionally. They probably had no idea that any slaves were taken. It was very late in the war."

"How do you know, then?"

"When I first got here, Lord Ayulphel put me in a room not far from his apartment. He'd call me in and talk to me for hours about a lot of things."

"How did you end up down here?"

Jyani shrugged. "I did something that he wasn't too happy about, but he still needs me so I wound up here rather than dead."

"He needs you?"

"I'm a full wood elf with all my power. The collar controls my power and he can use it for his own purposes. He'll do the same with you."

Sai'em shivered, feeling afraid for the first time. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

"You won't. The collar can't be resisted. I tried, at first, but it was impossible."

"Why does he need us if he has other elf slaves?"

Jyani shot her a surprised look. "The war was twenty-five centuries ago. None of the original slaves are still alive. Ayulphel and the other lords have been breeding their elf slaves to humans for centuries so there are no pure-blooded elves left here."

Sai'em suddenly felt sick. "Other lords?"

"Of course. You didn't think that Ayulphel was the only one?"

* * *

The grey muck Denil had at breakfast was the same as the grey muck he'd been given for supper. The slaves around him ate it hungrily and he could only assume that they'd been here for so long that they no longer gagged on it. Jak grimaced with every bite, but he was eating steadily and Denil reluctantly ate as much as he could before pushing the bowl away. They were being fed in the same large room that they'd slept in, with lots of guards patrolling the room, probably to make sure no fights broke out over food.

The slaves were dirty, ragged and all male. At first Denil had wondered about that, until he thought it through and realised that the women were probably kept in breeding pens somewhere else. He'd noticed some slaves casting dark looks in Jak's direction and for the first time was glad that Jak had made it so obvious that they were together. It might not stop the most determined man, but most of the slaves had probably already realised how dangerous it would be to make unwelcome advances to either of them.

The big, dark guard that Denil had noticed yesterday was on duty again today. He shot occasional glances towards Denil and again there seemed to be only curiosity in his eyes. His size and obvious strength would have worried Denil if he'd seen anything darker in his eyes. There didn't seem to be anything malicious there, though, and Denil knew that, if the opportunity arose, he'd do exactly what Jak had asked and try to talk to the guard.

Talking was going to be a problem. The babble of voices around him were speaking a language so changed and corrupted that Denil was having trouble understanding any of it. Words had subtly shifted meaning and usage, if he recognised them at all, and new words had been introduced. His knowledge of Old Elvish came from written records. The language around him had evolved over two thousand years in a different way from the language that Sai'em now spoke. Denil could pick out a few familiar words and, as he listened, he gradually began to pull meaning out of the corrupted language, but it was incomplete and he knew that he wouldn't be able to speak it himself without a lot more time to familiarise himself with it.

"You alright?" Jak asked suddenly.

They were sitting side by side on the floor on their thin blankets so Denil leaned briefly against his side before remembering that Jak probably wouldn't feel it through his mail shirt and padded undershirt.

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "I'm trying to work on this language."

"Ah." Jak's eyes constantly roved around the room, never lingering anywhere as he searched for approaching danger. "Any luck?"

"I'm still working on it."

The loud clanging of a bell interrupted them. Around them, the slaves put down their bowls and moved to line up at the doors without any prompting from the guards.

"Are you going to be able to do this?" Jak asked.

Denil looked down at his raw, blistered hands. "I'll have to."

Something hard suddenly thumped Denil between the shoulder blades. He looked back to find the dark guard standing over him. The guard, his bald head gleaming softly in the torchlight, shook his head in a movement so small Denil almost missed it. He understood, though, and put a hand on Jak's wrist before he could jump up and cause trouble.

The guard said something in a deep, gravely voice and Denil carefully kept his face blank even though he could guess what the guard wanted.

"You will join the others," the guard repeated, speaking Common to Denil's surprise. "Now."

Denil immediately scrambled to his feet, tugging Jak with him, and opened his mouth to speak. The sudden frown on the soldier's face made him think twice and hurry to join the other slaves instead. He and Jak were at the end of the line and two soldiers opened the doors as soon as they were there.

"What was that about?" Jak whispered.

"I have no idea."

The guard behind them hit Jak's shoulder with his staff and barked a command.

Denil glanced back and met the dark guard's brown eyes for a moment. The guard dipped his head slightly and Denil returned the nod before turning back and following the other slaves out of the sleeping pen.

They followed the route they'd taken to the mine yesterday. None of the slaves spoke, the guards pacing with them saw to that, and there was no sign of rebellion anywhere. All the slaves had the dull, dead eyes of men who have accepted their fate and realised that there is no way to change it. They were passing an intersecting corridor when Denil felt a hand close around his arm and tug him away from Jak. For a moment he panicked before realising it was the dark-skinned guard. Denil shot Jak a warning glance, 'do not cause trouble', and allowed himself to be tugged down the corridor until they were hidden from view. Then they stopped and Denil turned to face the guard with an impassive, unchallenging expression on his face.

"I will not harm you," the guard said in his deep, rumbling voice.

"I'm glad to hear it," Denil said.

"I am Tir'ac."

"Denil of Errith."

One eyebrow rose. "That is a long name for a slave."

"I wasn't a slave until yesterday."

Fierce interest suddenly shone in Tir'ac's eyes and he gripped Denil's chin in steely fingers so that he could tilt his face and examine it carefully. He even tugged at the laces of Denil's shirt so that he could look at Denil's neck and shoulders. Denil managed to stay still although he wanted to pull away from the intrusive examination.

"You are not marked," Tir'ac said, surprise in his voice.

"No."

Tir'ac grabbed Denil's arms and pushed his coat and shirtsleeves up to his elbows so that he could see the unmarked flesh. Denil briefly wondered how far Tir'ac would want to check and for a moment he was afraid that he'd misjudged the man. That worry faded as soon as Tir'ac released his arms and pleased satisfaction appeared in his eyes.

"You are not a spy? Sent unmarked to confuse us?" Tir'ac asked.

"You have my word that I am not a spy."

For another long moment Tir'ac searched his face before dipping his head gravely. "That is good."

Denil allowed a quiet sigh of relief to escape. He wasn't entirely certain what Tir'ac would have done if he hadn't believed Denil's honesty, but the soldier was strong enough to do some serious damage if he wasn't pleased.

Tir'ac took Denil's arms again, this time bringing them up to examine his abused hands. Some of the blisters had burst during the night and were now angry, weeping sores. The other blisters stung and ached with every twitch of Denil's fingers. In short, his hands were a mess from the unaccustomed work. Tir'ac examined them carefully, tracing the callus on Denil's right middle finger from years of pen use, and an expression that might have been pain flashed through his eyes.

"You do not work?" Tir'ac asked.

"I'm a scholar. I study languages. Mining isn't something that I'm used to."

Tir'ac reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a small bottle and some strips of linen.

"If anyone sees us, they will assume that I am favouring you for my pleasure," Tir'ac explained as he opened the bottle and began carefully smearing a spicy, oily substance on Denil's hands.

"Are you?"

"No. I desire information only."

"I will tell you what I can if you will answer my questions."

"That is fair."

"Yes."

"Why have you come here?" Tir'ac asked.

"We were searching for Jak's son."

"He is the silver-haired man who is with you?"

"Yes. His name is Jak Kern."

"Why would he think that his son is here?"

"Jak's son was taken through a portal by soldiers bearing tattoos on their cheeks like yours. The elf that came with us traced the portal and brought us here. We've seen Jak's son - he was sitting next to Lord Ayulphel at the banquet yesterday."

A trace of surprised confusion appeared in Tir'ac's eyes. "How can Jak Kern be the father of that child?"

"He's Charry's father in every way that counts. He raised the boy from the moment he was born and couldn't love him more if he were Jak's own flesh."

The confusion faded from Tir'ac's eyes and he nodded his understanding. "The child is luckier than he knows."

"Yes, he is." Denil studied Tir'ac's face, but the soldier was giving away nothing. He seemed to be thinking deeply; his fingers had paused in the middle of wrapping linen strips carefully around Denil's hands. After a couple of minutes, Denil concluded that he wasn't going to learn anything from watching Tir'ac and decided to ask a few questions of his own. "How have you come to speak Common?"

Tir'ac seemed to shake himself out of his deep contemplation and resumed binding Denil's hands. "Lord Ayulphel required it."

That caught Denil's interest. "Why?"

"He sometimes wishes to spend spies to the Second World and has need of men who can speak their tongue and learn what occurs. Many were sent in search of the boy until Lord Ayulphel found him. When spies are branded as children, their tattoos are put in hidden places so that they can move within the population with drawing attention."

"The Second World?" Denil asked, even though he could already guess Tir'ac's reply.

"The plane on which my kind originated. We were cast out many generations ago, but Lord Ayulphel wishes to understand how life progresses so that one day he may regain possession."

Denil swallowed hard as the implications hit him like a punch to the gut. "Is there a First World?"

"Yes, but that plane was destroyed eons ago. Lord Ayulphel's kind originated there."

That explained the corrupted form of Elvish that the soldiers and slaves spoke. Denil tried to reconcile Tir'ac's information with the story that Sai'em had told, but the only explanation that he could come up with was that she had left out some details. Why?

Tir'ac finished trying off the bandages. "We must return to the mine."

"Of course," Denil said vaguely.

"My fellow Kyari will assume that you are now under my protection. They will not trouble you if you cannot work as hard as the other slaves."

It was just one step away from an outright order - Denil would not work as hard as the other slaves until his hands healed. He was surprised to feel grateful to the strange soldier.

As they began walking towards the main mineshaft, Denil asked, "What are Kyari?"

"My people. The soldiers of Lord Ayulphel."

* * *

The lingering effects of the stun-bolt caught up with Sai'em and she slept for a few hours, curled up on a pile of ragged blankets with Jyani asleep a few inches away. There were questions running through her mind, but she was too exhausted and fuzzyheaded to make sense of them. Sai'em woke to feel Jyani's gaze on her, watching silently.

"Feeling a little better, _akasha_?" Jyani asked.

Sai'em sat up and pushed a hand through her tangled short hair. "A little."

Jyani held out a bowl of grey sludge and a couple of hard biscuits. "I didn't want to wake you when the guard came. You'll need your strength when Lord Ayulphel requests you."

The sludge didn't smell any better than it had a few hours ago, but Sai'em took the bowl and dipped a biscuit in anyway. "Have you tried to remove the collar?"

"I tried, once, when I first arrived. The pick melted in my fingers. The Kyari won't dare remove the collar - they're too loyal to Lord Ayulphel, or too afraid."

Kyari. It sounded similar to _kerayi_ , an ancient term that translated to something between servant and soldier and hadn't been used since the war with the plains elves.

"There was a woman, once," Jyani said softly. "She tried...Lord Ayulphel was not happy. He's had centuries to devise ways to torture without causing permanent damage."

In the dim light, Sai'em watched the colour drain from Jyani's face until she was almost grey. "Was that why you were sent down here?"

"Yes," Jyani whispered, fingering her collar without seeming conscious of what she was doing.

Sai'em waited for her to elaborate, but Jyani seemed lost in her own thoughts.

"You said that there were other lords out there," Sai'em said, determined to get some information she could use. "How many?"

Jyani snatched her hand away from her collar. "Thirteen. Between them they rule nearly one hundred planes."

"How is that possible? Our theoreticians explored a lot of worlds and only found one inhabitable plane."

"The planes lords don't worry about the habitability of their worlds. The land beyond this complex is deadly - Lord Ayulphel maintains a barrier around it that the poisons cannot pass through. He keeps other planes that are only used to grown food and animals for his sustenance. He and the other lords covet our plane. If they ever united, our plane wouldn't be able to withstand them. Instead they fight among themselves and keep their existence secret from our people. I think it's all that's saved us so far."

It was worse than Sai'em had thought possible, although the knowledge that the lords had a feudal system allowed some hope. But it would only take one becoming stronger than the others, though, and uniting them to put her world in danger. Information would be the key, information that she had to take back with her.

"How did any of the plains elves escape the slaughter?" she asked, deciding that the beginning was the best place to start. "There wasn't an elf or human left alive in Geijder at the end."

"And that is what our records show." Jyani shrugged. "They fooled us. The ones that were left behind were acting as a rear-guard, buying enough time for a few of their higher ranks and their slaves to escape through portals. While our armies were fighting and killing, a few were escaping. They'd captured a few of our people, collared them and forced them to open the portals. When the battle was over, nobody counted the bodies on either side and it was simply assumed that all the missing were among the dead."

Sai'em nodded. "And their descendents took over other planes and waited."

"Descendents?" Jyani shook her head sharply. "Lord Ayulphel is the same Lord Ayulphel who escaped through a portal twenty-five centuries ago."

"That's impossible! No elf - even my kind - lives that long and the plains elves were the shortest lived of all."

"They were also the least powerful, magically, but they found a way around it."

"How?"

"Lord Ayulphel and his kin discovered that they could transfer their souls into other bodies. Not full elves, but humans or human-elf hybrids. That was why they began breeding their human and elf slaves, trying to create perfect bodies to transfer into because they also found that they could use the power of the bodies that they took over. Think of it; they could access elven and human magic and even the odd powers that appear in humans - telepathy, empathy, fire-starting, weather-sensing, moving objects without touching them. All they had to do was breed those traits into a body over several generations. With the right spells they can prolong a body's use several times over and they have access to powers that they could only dream of before."

The idea was stunning and horrifying. Transferring a soul - stealing a sentient creature's life - went against everything Sai'em had ever been taught to believe. Worse yet, as a half-elf she would be a prime candidate for possession if she ever allowed the shields around her mind to waver. It took an enormous effort of will not to throw up at the thought.

"Ayulphel's current body has lasted for several centuries with the aid of preserving spells, but it's starting to wear out," Jyani continued. "He's-"

She was interrupted by the sound of the cell's lock turning and Sai'em automatically turned towards it. A soldier - Kyari, she reminded herself - came in with a staff raised. Two more, similarly armed, followed and the lead Kyari barked an order in a harsh, ugly language that Sai'em didn't recognise.

"Lord Ayulphel has summoned you," Jyani said quietly. "It will be easier if you don't resist."

The warning was obviously sincerely meant, but it wasn't in Sai'em's nature to tamely allow herself to be used in any way. She wrapped herself in icy dignity and followed the soldiers, silently vowing not to allow the monster called Ayulphel to get anything from her.

* * *

Jak was worried. Tir'ac had unobtrusively taken Denil out of the crowd returning from the mine and he hadn't seen the scholar since. The mage-lights would be dimming for sleep in a few minutes and Jak had no idea what would happen if Denil didn't make it back in time. He'd noticed the bandages around Denil's hands and the way that the guards - Kyari, as Denil had whispered to him during the midday break - didn't harass him even though he was working far more slowly than the other slaves. During the day Jak had noticed two or three other slaves receiving the same treatment. He guessed that it was easier to pay for protection that way rather than risk beatings and worse if they couldn't keep up. Jak was only surprised that more slaves hadn't entered into such bargains. Maybe even slaves were only willing to sacrifice a certain amount.

The other slaves in the room hadn't bothered him once. Jak was sure that it was the expression on his face that kept them all at least ten feet away. He couldn't help that; he was worried for Denil and every minute that passed only intensified that worry. The big, dark-skinned soldier looked strong enough to force the scholar into anything without much effort on his part. Jak wasn't sure that even he, with years of training, could fight off Tir'ac if the soldier wanted him. During their short break, Denil had filled him in on his conversation with Tir'ac, but it hadn't relieved his mind at all. In fact, it only made him more concerned. There seemed to be a lot going on here that he didn't understand. Tir'ac had hinted at a lot without giving much real information.

There was a stir further down the room and Jak looked up to see Denil walking towards him carrying a blanket. He had a strange, tight expression, as though he was trying to conceal a mixture of emotions. Jak started to ask him what had happened, but Denil cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. The lights would be going out any minute now and Denil gestured towards one of the darker edges of the room. The implication was clear; he had something he needed to say and he didn't want to talk within earshot of the other slaves.

Jak picked up his blanket and followed him to a clear space at the edge where they lay down and pulled the blankets up just as the lights abruptly went out. Unlike last night, Denil positioned them face-to-face and moved so close that Jak could feel his breath against his cheek. The double layer of blankets and the warm body chased away some of the chill and Jak wrapped his arms around Denil. Anyone looking their way would hopefully decide not to get too close.

"Well?" he whispered.

"I found out a few things," Denil replied.

"So I gathered. Care to share?"

Denil's body was stiff with tension in Jak's arms and he took a long time to answer.

"I found out why Ayulphel took Charry and it isn't because he's the boy's father," Denil said eventually.

A wave of sick relief swept through Jak. No matter how many times he'd told himself that it wasn't possible, there had always been the idea niggling at the back of his mind. Rescuing Charry would have been much harder if they'd been attempting to take him away from his natural father.

"Jak?"

He realised that he must have zoned out for long enough to worry Denil and tightened his arms around the scholar. "I'm here."

There was small huff of air against his face that, with a few weeks of experience of Denil's expressions, Jak thought probably accompanied a roll of Denil's eyes.

"Did you find out anything else?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded. "I think Tir'ac wants something - he gave me more information than I expected tonight."

"Wants what?"

"I don't know. Yet."

"So what did he tell you?"

"Ayulphel wants Charry because he's the result of some kind of breeding program and he hasn't been able to produce another boy like him yet."

Something knotted in Jak's stomach. "Breeding program?"

There was revulsion in Denil's voice. "Like we'd breed prize roses or cattle. He's been breeding humans and elves for years, trying to combine all the powers of our races into something even more powerful. Charry was one of the best results of the program, or would have been if Anaya hadn't escaped when she did."

A lot of things in Anaya's behaviour and the answers she'd refused to give suddenly made sense, even her eventual suicide.

"There are other children," Denil continued. "Younger than Charry, less powerful, but Ayulphel wanted Charry for something specific so he searched for years until he found him."

"And took him."

"Yes."

"What for? Why is Charry so important?"

"Tir'ac didn't say. I can make some guesses, though. If Charry is as powerful as Ayulphel hoped, he'll start to develop those powers over the next few years. At the moment, Ayulphel has him brained-washed, enchanted somehow. Think how powerful a weapon that makes him."

The knot in Jak's stomach grew tighter until he almost felt physically sick. "My son will not be used like that. He's just a kid."

"So we'll get him out of here."

"How?"

"I think Tir'ac might help. He wants to talk to you tomorrow."

"Why?"

"He's taking a huge risk even talking to me. Wouldn't you want to be certain that you're helping the right people in his situation?"

Jak thought it through for a while and had to admit that Denil had a point. If he were going to throw over everything to help two complete strangers, he'd want to talk to both of them and make sure they were what they appeared to be. Certainly he wanted to talk to Tir'ac and find out his motives. No matter what Denil said, Jak wasn't going to trust the solider any further than he had to.

"Set it up," he said quietly.

Denil nodded and shifted closer. Jak lay awake for a long time after Denil's breath settled into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep before he fell into restless dreams filled with dark things reaching out to a bright, sandy-haired boy.

* * *

Waking up in a cell with Jyani bathing her forehead seemed to be getting to be a habit, Sai'em mused to herself fuzzily. Her head throbbed again and there was a foul taste in her mouth; she had a vague memory of throwing up at some point. Cramps in her stomach testified that something unpleasant had happened. Sai'em shifted and groaned quietly.

"You resisted, didn't you?" Jyani asked tiredly. "I told you it was impossible."

Yes, she had resisted. There had never been any doubt that she would. She'd tried with every fibre of her body to thrust away the evil presence that had slithered in and possessed every corner of her mind. Vainly, she'd tried to close down when that thing took her power and shaped it into bolts of pure energy that it used to explode vases and cabinets. It had insinuated itself into her memories, leaving nothing untouched so that she felt as though she'd never be clean again. All the while, the collar at her throat grew colder and colder until it felt as though her skin would burn from the cold. Each time she fought, the collar sent spasms of pain through her body. Fighting was useless, anyway, because nothing she did seemed to stop Ayulphel's ransack of her mind. All she could do was wall off a few precious memories and protect them with everything she had left. Unconsciousness had seemed like a blessed relief.

Sai'em lifted a hand to her throat and was surprised by how weak and shaky it seemed. "Wh-...?"

"You fought. It goes easier if you don't," Jyani said.

Her throat was dry. Sai'em tried to speak and could only produce a small squeak. Jyani moved away and returned a moment later with a cup. She managed to prop Sai'em up slightly so that she could take a few sips. Sai'em felt weaker than a newborn kitten.

"I had to fight," Sai'em said.

Jyani sat back on her heels with a sad expression. "You're only making it worse."

"I'm not ready to give up yet."

Sai'em reached inside to her power reserves and was surprised to find them almost empty. That explained the weakness. There were energy fields around her and without thinking she threw out a line and tried to hook into one to restore herself. Nothing happened. She could feel the power around her, but it was like trying to touch water through a glass covering.

Jyani touched her wrist. "You can't touch it without Ayulphel's permission. You'll have to rely on passive transfer only. That's why it's easier not to fight - you'll only waste your own reserves trying."

Sai'em ran through every curse she knew, stopping only when she began repeating herself. Jyani watched her, wide-eyed, as though she was afraid that Sai'em would take out her frustration on her. Sai'em almost laughed at the thought. For the next couple of days she'd be struggling to pull together enough energy to look after herself, never mind hurting Jyani. She sobered when she realised that Jyani was probably used to being hurt when Ayulphel was angry or frustrated.

"I'm not sure what I can just accept this passively," Sai'em said.

"Eventually you will. You'll have to."

Sai'em closed her eyes rather than argue further.

* * *

It turned out to be easy to set up a meeting between Tir'ac and Jak, far easier than either of them had anticipated. The soldier simply took Jak out of the mine during the midday break and let him into an abandoned shaft. Nobody challenged him and the other slaves pointedly looked away as they passed. None of them would interfere and risk the wrath of the other guards. Jak couldn't help pitying them. They'd never known any other life and probably never would.

The main shaft was lit by mage-lights, but this side one was unlit. As soon as they passed beyond the light from the mage-lights, Tir'ac produced a small stick from a pouch on his belt that he broke in half. It immediately produced a dim red light that made the shadows in the shaft seem somehow lurking and malicious. Jak firmly told himself that it was the cold draft that made him shiver.

"We will talk here," Tir'ac said bluntly, but quietly.

"Fine by me," Jak said, not bothering to attempt diplomacy.

"You are Jak Kern," Tir'ac said.

"I am."

"You have raised the boy, Charry, from birth."

"I have."

"You wish to take him from this plane and return him to yours."

"I do."

"That will not be easy."

Jak shrugged. "A lot of things aren't."

"The boy is well guarded. Lord Ayulphel does not wish to lose him again."

"Now that's something that interests me - why does Ayulphel want my son so much?"

Something shifted in Tir'ac's eyes. "The boy is necessary to his survival."

"Why?" Jak repeated.

"Lord Ayulphel's body is reaching its end. He requires a new body. Your son is the best candidate for his future. The boy is powerful and will mature within a couple of years. All the other candidates are but infants and Lord Ayulphel cannot spend years waiting for his new body to mature enough to function correctly."

Cold, hard fury welled up in Jak's chest at the thought of Ayulphel possessing his son's body and he had to take several deep breaths before he could speak.

"When will he do it? When will he take my son's body?" Jak asked, the anger inside making his voice harsher than he'd intended.

"Soon," Tir'ac said gravely. "At first I believe that he intended to wait until the boy was older, but his body now fails faster with every day and he must renew himself or die within a few weeks."

"What will happen if Charry isn't there for Ayulphel to possess?"

"The Lord Ayulphel will be forced to take another body, with little power, and await the growth of another child. If he doesn't, he'll face a painful death as his old body ages and burns away."

Jak smiled cruelly. "Can't say I'd regret that." A thought occurred. "Why are you helping us?"

Tir'ac's expression didn't change. "I have reasons."

"Not good enough."

"You are concerned that I may betray you or play you false," Tir'ac said.

Jak raised a shoulder. "Among other things."

"I give you my word that I will not."

"Well, no offence, but that isn't really enough. I get suspicious when enemy soldiers help me for no good reason."

"You wish for proof of my intentions?"

"Proof would be great, but reasons will do."

Tir'ac drew himself up and for the first time Jak was intensely aware of how large and strong the man was. "Many believe that Lord Ayulphel and his kind are gods. I do not."

"What persuaded you?"

"Years ago, I led an attack on one of Lord Ayulphel's enemies. He stated that it would be an easy victory and only sent a small number of men. But they knew we were coming and we faced an army ten times our number. How can a god not know this? I fought hard and managed to bring some of my men home. Lord Ayulphel killed them for failing him. He killed my wife and son and sent me to guard the mines, to be an example of the punishment given to those who defy their lord."

Jak swallowed hard. "Harsh."

"Many are punished more severely," Tir'ac said, raising his chin defiantly.

"So now you want to help us out of revenge?"

"Yes. And to show others that Lord Ayulphel is not a god."

There was only sincerity and old, cold fury in Tir'ac's eyes so Jak nodded. "Good enough for me. We'll need a plan."

* * *

Passive transfer was the slowest way imaginable to restore magical reserves. Sai'em naturally attracted tiny dribbles of power, all elves did, but the power flow was tiny. It would take days before her reserves were back to a level where she would feel relatively normal and even longer before she had anything to spare. Not that she could use that power, even if she had it. Hooking into the energy fields that she could feel around her would have restored her reserves in a few heartbeats, but all that power was tantalisingly out of reach. Instead she had to wait, doing little more than sleeping and eating, while power slowly seeped in. She was more frustrated than she could ever remember being before and feeling so weak only made her frustration build higher. The worried, half-fearful looks from Jyani made her feel even worse.

Jyani put a bowl of grey glop down at Sai'em's elbow and scurried away out of arm's reach.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Sai'em said, trying to sound reassuring. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

Jyani's tense shoulders sagged a little. "I know."

Sai'em picked up her bowl and changed the subject. "How did you get here?"

Some of the wariness faded from Jyani's face. "It was stupid, really. I grew up in Abéra Forest and I wanted to see the world beyond the woods, so I left. I packed a bag and snuck out of the city after dark. It was early summer and I thought that I could see the human lands and be back before autumn."

"But things didn't work out that way."

"I was a few days out from the forest on a small back road when a portal opened in front of me. The next thing I knew, I was in a room with a collar on and a creature with flashing eyes and a strange voice was telling me that I belonged to him."

"You have no memory of the trip here?"

Jyani shook her head. "Whoever caught me must have used one of the stun-bolts. It was days before I realised where I'd been taken."

That was worrying. If Jyani had been playing around with magic, trying to replicate the old spells, then her appearance in this plane was easily explainable. But she hadn't. She'd been kidnapped from her plane and brought here. Even more worryingly, it meant that Ayulphel had found some way to find particular prey. The odds of opening a portal that just 'happened' to be close to an elf with strong magic were so small that Sai'em didn't even both calculating them. How many other elves had disappeared the same way? Getting back and informing the Council of what was happening was suddenly more of a priority than it had ever been.

"Didn't you try to escape?" Sai'em asked.

Jyani bristled. "Of course! I did everything I could and it didn't make any difference. I couldn't escape the room that Ayulphel locked me in and I couldn't get the collar off."

Jyani's words when Sai'em first woke up came back. "What happened to get you sent down here?"

"I almost escaped. Once." Jyani absently fingered her collar. "One of Ayulphel's slaves was pregnant. Her child was going to be powerful, so strong that he was Ayulphel's first choice for a new host, and she wanted to get him away from here. She was brave. Somehow she managed to get into my room and picked the lock on my collar. Don't ask me how she managed it - I don't know. All I know is that I woke up to find her standing over me with a bit of wire to pick the lock. My guards must have been drugged so we slipped out and went down to the old portal room. Lord Ayulphel didn't shield the room, not then, so I put together the portal spell and sent it to our plane. The slave got through, but Ayulphel found me just as I was about to step through. I couldn't let him follow her so I collapsed the spell and twisted it as much as I could so that it couldn't be traced. Ayulphel was furious at losing the child and any chance of following its mother and I was unconscious from the spell backlash for days. He almost killed me, but he needed my power to search for the child so he locked me down here instead and none of his solders have ever dared to help me."

Her story explained a lot of things. The child must have been Charry and the mother probably killed herself to keep her son safe. Sai'em felt a spark of admiration for that brave woman. If she ever saw Jak again, he deserved the truth.

"Of course, it was all for nothing anyway," Jyani said sadly. "The boy has been found and Ayulphel will take his body soon."

"Unless we stop him."

"How?"

"I don't know. Yet."

All Sai'em could do was hope that Jak and Denil were having better luck with an escape plan than she was.

* * *

The hardest part of the escape plan was working out how Tir'ac could get Denil and Jak out of the slave pen. Getting one or the other out was easy, but the other Kyari would be suspicious if they were both taken out at once. Jak had come up blank when they tried to plot this part, but Tir'ac had eventually come up with something that might work.

The shift at the rock face was almost over when Tir'ac appeared carrying heavy shackles and a staff.

"Lord Ayulphel requires men for the breeding pens," Tir'ac announced loudly.

Everyone around Jak immediately bent to their tasks with renewed vigour and hunched over as though they were trying to avoid attention. Jak had been surprised when Tir'ac suggested this, but now that he saw the reaction he understood why it was going to work. It seemed that everyone would rather spend years mining in cold dampness than a few days in the breeding pens. Jak forced his lips not to smile and hacked at the rocks with his pickaxe as though he, too, wanted to avoid Tir'ac's gaze.

Another Kyari joined Tir'ac with an armful of chains. "Who will serve their master in sacred duty?"

If possible, the slaves cowered even further.

Tir'ac dropped his chains with a loud rattle and pointed, seemingly at random, to five men. "You are chosen."

Jak propped his pickaxe carefully and tried to adopt the same fearful, reluctant manner that the other slaves had, even though inside he was crowing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Denil do the same thing with a carefully controlled, tight look on his face.

The shackles were cold around Jak's wrists and connected to ankle irons in such a way that he could only manage a slow, awkward shuffle. Tir'ac fastened Denil's with care, still playing the part of 'favouring' a slave, and chained all five men together. The other guard took the lead end of the chain and began walking up the mineshaft, forcing the slaves to stumble after him as fast as they could. Tir'ac brought up the rear and jabbed Jak between the shoulder blades to speed him up. Jak gritted his teeth and shuffled. There was another slave between him and Denil, but he caught enough glances of the scholar to know that he was coping with the rough treatment. Jak had a feeling that the train of slaves wouldn't be allowed to stop so anyone who fell would be dragged along the stone floor.

The awkward pace made the mineshaft feel twice as long as it had done before. At the top, rather than proceeding to the sleeping pen, they were led down another corridor that subtly climbed upwards. Jak's muscles were aching from the shuffling after a few minutes, but the lead guard just tugged on the chain to pull them along when they seemed to slow down. The corridor ended in a winding staircase and Jak's heart sank. It would be almost impossible to get up them and one wrong step would send them all tumbling down again, probably dead from the fall. The lead guard halted and the rest of the column also came to a stop. Jak was slightly surprised to find Tir'ac going down the line and unlocking the ankle irons, but apparently Ayulphel valued his breeding stock enough not to let them get killed in a preventable accident.

Jak counted the steps as they went, trying to work out where they were going in relation to the mine. He had no idea where the room they had arrived in was, but he was slowly building up a mental map of this section of the compound. He estimated that they came out on the floor below Ayulphel's banqueting hall. Denil looked tense, but he betrayed nothing of what was going on beneath the surface. The other three slaves seemed to have resigned themselves to their fate. They no longer hunched and flinched away, instead keeping their expressions blank and refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

The group stopped a few feet from the top of the staircase and Tir'ac knelt, apparently to refasten Jak's chains. It would never happen. Tir'ac tapped Jak's ankle and Jak immediately cleared his throat, their prearranged signal. He and Denil dropped to the floor at the same time, unbalancing the other slaves so that they also collapsed. In the same instant, Tir'ac picked up his staff and fired at the other Kyari, who fell without a sound.

There were confused grunts from the other slaves before one, faster off the mark than the others, yelled something in his harsh language. Tir'ac stood and trained his staff on the slaves.

" _Kee'sha_!" he ordered.

Jak turned to Denil and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Denil shrugged and mouthed back, "Shut up?"

Without taking his eyes off the slaves, Tir'ac tossed a set of keys to Jak. He quickly freed himself and Denil before backing away from the other slaves. The three men cowered away from Tir'ac.

"We cannon allow these men to go free, Jak Kern," Tir'ac said. "They will betray us."

"We can't kill them," Denil protested.

"Dead men cannot report our escape," Tir'ac said.

"How long will one of those stun things put them out?" Jak asked.

"A few minutes, no more."

"Tie them up somewhere and stun them," Denil suggested. "That might delay things."

Tir'ac grudgingly nodded. "Very well."

He barked something unintelligible and the slaves stood. All three were large men with snake tattoos and scarred faces. Fighting them might have been difficult but, chained as they were, they had no choice except to do as Tir'ac ordered. Jak and Tir'ac had already agreed that it would be best if Denil didn't know that they would be killed as soon as they were found anyway. They couldn't afford passengers who would stab them in the back at the first opportunity.

The staircase led onto a long corridor lit by mage-lights instead of torches. Tir'ac prodded the slaves down to the second door on the right and gestured for Jak to open it. The door led into a small room used to store bales of blankets. It was short work with Tir'ac's knife to tear strips to bind and gag the slaves with. They passively allowed Jak and Denil to tie their bonds, flinching every time Tir'ac's eyes fell on them. Jak piled a couple of bales so that they couldn't be immediately seen from the door and stepped back to allow Tir'ac to stun them. The bolts of blue energy enveloped them and seemed to crackle around them for a few heartbeats before slowly fading. Jak remembered the sensation and had a little sympathy for the expressions of pain on their faces.

Instead of locking the door behind them when they left, Tir'ac touched something on his staff and fired a bolt of red energy at the lock. The metal glowed orange for a moment and the wood around it scorched black.

"They will not escape," Tir'ac said.

Jak touched the lock and snatched his hand away quickly. "So I see."

"The staff weapon has two settings."

"Stun and kill?"

Tir'ac hesitated. "Approximately."

"Can you get us weapons?" Jak asked.

"Yes." Tir'ac led them further down the corridor and opened another door. "I was able to retrieve your own."

Jak's sword and knives were piled with Denil's extended staff in what looked like a broom closet.

"It would be best to conceal your weapons so that we can move unquestioned," Tir'ac said.

"Don't we get one of the fancy staffs?" Jak asked.

Tir'ac raised an eyebrow. "True weapons are well-guarded. I could not secure them without the correct authorisation."

Jak shrugged and began hiding his knives. Denil contracted his staff and hung it innocuously from his belt. The sword was harder to hide. Jak had managed to keep his long coat despite the mine work so eventually he belted the sword under his coat and hoped that he'd be able to free it quickly if he needed to.

When they were ready, Tir'ac closed the closet and stepped back. "The boy, Charry, has rooms within Lord Ayulphel's apartment. He is well-guarded and will be difficult to extricate."

"If it's just us," Denil said cryptically.

"You haven an idea?" Jak asked.

Denil shrugged. "Not really an idea, just a thought. Sai'em is an ice elf with a lot of magical power to command. I don't know what Ayulphel can do, but it wouldn't hurt to free her before we go after him."

Jak grinned. "And she's probably going to be easier to get to than Charry."

"We need her to get home anyway and I had no intention of leaving her here, so it makes sense to go after Charry with her power behind us."

"Can we do it?" Jak asked Tir'ac.

"She is the elf who was captured with you?" Tir'ac asked.

"That's her," Jak said.

"She will be collared and imprisoned with the other elf."

"Collared?" Denil asked, his voice filled with worry.

"The collar restricts their power so that Lord Ayulphel can use it for his purposes."

Jak frowned. "Can it be removed?"

"Possibly."

Jak hadn't missed Tir'ac's reference to another elf. It tallied with what he remembered from the banqueting hall and might give them two powerful allies rather than one, if the other elf could be persuaded to betray her gaoler.

"What kind of guard is there?" Jak asked.

"No more than two are required," Tir'ac said. "The elves are powerless and locked into a cell. They require little more than food and tending and we will have the element of surprise. I will be able to disarm them easily."

They would talk about who would do the 'disarming' later. For now, they had to move through the corridors unchallenged and that had already been planned for. Tir'ac handed Jak one of the shackles and the former mercenary pulled the leather roll containing his lock-picks out of a coat pocket. Obviously none of the guards had realised the significance of that little bundle or they would have confiscated it along with his weapons. The ever-present guards and lack of chains in the mines had made it useless, but now it was as vital as Jak's sword. It only took a few minutes, with Tir'ac and Denil keeping anxious watch, to jam the locks on the shackles so that they closed but a swift tug would make them spring open.

Tir'ac carefully 'shackled' Jak and Denil together and Jak showed Denil the trick to unsnapping the locks. Then, with Tir'ac's staff weapon trained on them, they began the trek down to Sai'em's cell, trying to look like nothing more than a Kyari escorting two prisoners.

* * *

" _Akasha_?"

Jyani's voice was like sweet honey in Sai'em's abused, aching head. The endearment, even with the wood elf accent, was a familiar one that she hadn't heard since she left the north and it sent warmth flooding through to chase away the chills of power-depletion. It didn't matter that it was safer to submit to Ayulphel's will without fighting, Sai'em had to try. This time he'd directed her power to destroy wooden targets before pulling power through her to reinforce the shields that kept the poisons out of the air in the compound. Sai'em had been taking power from the fields around her as fast as Ayulphel used it up and the collar had stopped her from absorbing any of it into her personal reserves. Passive transfer hadn't been enough to replenish those after her first meeting with Ayulphel and her reserves were now dangerously low. She wouldn't be able to resist him again without draining her own life force. The thought sickened her, but she wouldn't have the strength to do anything against him the next time.

"You fought again," Jyani said sadly.

"Yes," Sai'em croaked.

She felt bruised all over even though Ayulphel had never laid a hand on her. It was the price of her mental battle with him. She didn't even have the strength left to raise her head for water. Jyani had to cradle her head and hold a cup to her lips to drink.

"If you continue, you will die," Jyani said.

Sai'em smiled grimly. "Ayulphel wouldn't allow that."

"Maybe."

Anything she might have added was cut off by a strange sound outside the cell. It sounded almost like a human cry. Of course, it couldn't be. Why would anyone be shouting down here?

Another muffled shout pushed away any doubt. Sai'em exchanged a confused glance with Jyani before turning towards the cell door. The movement took all her remaining strength so all she could manage was a faint gasp as sparks rained down from a lock glowing cherry-red.

* * *

Denil ducked and rolled as energy exploded off the rock behind the spot where his head had been moments earlier. Forewarned is forearmed, and they now knew how dangerous those staffs could be. Unfortunately, Tir'ac's two guards had turned out to be four and they were now in the middle of a firefight, with the opposing Kyari not bothering to keep their staffs on a low setting. They were shooting to kill and it was only Denil's quick feet that had kept him alive so far. Tir'ac had managed to stun one guard, who was now stirring groggily on the other side of the guardroom. There were several large scorch marks on the walls and cell door. Tir'ac had turned his staff's power up when he realised how the fight was going and Jak had the downed guard's staff in hand, leaving Denil to dodge bolts as best he could. Not that Denil wanted one of the lethal things. His own, unmagical, staff was the only weapon he wanted. He was a scholar, not a warrior.

Jak shouted a warning and Denil managed to roll away from a wild energy bolt. The move took him to the feet of one of the Kyari and without even thinking, Denil tangled his legs with him and tugged. The Kyari, a large, fair man, stumbled and caught himself with his staff before he fell. Denil swung his staff up and managed to connect with the side of the Kyari's head. The angle meant that it wasn't a hard blow, but it was enough to stun the soldier for a moment. That gave Denil time to roll to his feet in a move that Jak had taught him so that he could face the Kyari with his staff in hand.

The Kyari's staff wasn't suited to firing at close range, something that had so far worked in their favour, so he was forced to fall back on hand to hand combat, which suited Denil perfectly. Denil blocked the first few blows easily, ignoring the way it jarred his shoulders and healing blisters. The expression on the Kyari's face said he was just toying with the 'inferior' human. Denil smiled and some of the arrogance faded. The past few weeks had brought back the moves and patterns that Sai'em had taught him years ago, with a few new additions from Jak. Denil feinted left and began a complex pattern of strikes and parries that should force his opponent into a position where he could be disarmed. The Kyari had obviously never encountered Denil's style, which relied more on speed and planning than brute force, and he obediently tried all the right blocks and counter-strikes without realising where they were taking him. Denil stepped back, forcing the Kyari to over-extend slightly, and neatly pulled the Kyari's staff out of his hands with his own. The staff went flying and before it landed Denil had thrust the tip of his staff at the Kyari's chest, winding him, and finished him with a solid tap to his temples that would knock him cold for hours.

Denil had been so absorbed by his own fight that he didn't notice that the fighting around him had ended until he looked around for another opponent. The other three Kyari were lying on the floor, one with a smoking wound in his chest. Denil grimaced at the smell of burnt flesh. Jak and Tir'ac were attempting to open the scorched cell door with keys taken from one of the former guards.

"It's no good," Jak exclaimed after a minute. "The lock's melted. I'd need a hammer and chisel to pick it."

"Can't you just," Denil gestured to Tir'ac's staff, "blast it open?"

Tir'ac examined the thick door carefully before nodding. "I believe I can."

He raised his staff and Denil quickly raised a hand. "Wait! Wait second."

There was a small flap set in the door at eye height. Denil ducked around Tir'ac and opened the flap to reveal a metal grill just large enough to see part of the cell through. He could make out Sai'em's blonde hair gleaming in the light from a mage-light and a pair of bare feet, their owner just beyond his field of vision.

"Sai'em," he called.

There was a moment's hesitation before she called back, "Denil?"

Her voice sounded croaky and weak, quite unlike the woman he knew.

"I'm here," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "We're going to try to blast the door open."

"Blast?" another voice said.

This voice was unfamiliar. It was slightly lower than Sai'em's but still definitely female with a drawling accent that he didn't recognise. Denil vaguely remembered Ayulphel telling his Kyari to collar Sai'em and "put her with the other one". Another elf?

"We have one of the guards' weapons," he said. "Tir'ac thinks we can use it to get the door open but it might cause a bit of damage."

"Thanks for the warning," the unfamiliar voice said. "We'll try to get out of the way."

Denil could see movement in the cell so he stepped away and nodded to Tir'ac. The Kyari gave the women a few seconds to move before raising the staff, propping it on his shoulder and aiming it at the door. It took several bolts of red energy to shatter the solid door, energy that sizzled and crackled in the air and could easily kill a man. The smell of charred wood mixed with the smell of burnt flesh and made Denil's eyes water painfully. Eventually, the battered door gave way and sagged on its hinges. Denil didn't wait for Tir'ac or Jak; he'd moved forward and pushed away the remains of the door before the Kyari had lowered his weapon.

The two women were huddled in a corner of the cell. Denil was surprised to find the strange woman shielding Sai'em with her body. He'd expected the situation to be the other way around. They began slowly uncurling as he approached, the strange woman moving away so that he could see Sai'em. Her appearance shocked him and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself exclaiming aloud. Her face was pinched and drawn, seeming narrower than even an elf's face normally looked so that her cheekbones looked sharp and her cheeks sunken. There was complete weariness in her pale blue eyes that was echoed in the exhausted slump of her shoulders. It seemed almost impossible that she could have changed so much in a few days, but the evidence was in front of him.

A small, weary smile touched her lips. "Hello."

He returned the smile. "Hi. You look terrible."

She shrugged one shoulder. "I've felt better."

That was plain to see. The usually pristine elf's clothes were dirty and torn and she looked to have lost several pounds in only a few days. Denil felt Jak and Tir'ac enter the cell and pause a couple of feet behind him. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention away from Sai'em to the woman she'd been imprisoned with.

Denil's couldn't tell what she was. Her tangled hair hid her ears, she was dressed in a loose, ragged grey tunic and trousers and her feet were bare. She looked malnourished and tired, but how much the narrowness of her face owed to her imprisonment and how much to her heritage was impossible to tell. She didn't have the familiar sense of presence and power that he associated with elves. Instead she shrank back into a corner of the cell, wide, frightened eyes fixed on something just behind Denil's left shoulder. He glanced back and realised that it was Tir'ac she was staring at with undisguised fear.

"It's alright, he's a friend," he said quickly, trying to reassure her. "He's helping us to escape. His name is Tir'ac."

The Kyari dipped his head gravely and the strange elf's eyes widened even further.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Sai'em asked.

"I give you my word that I will not betray you," Tir'ac said.

"He's a good guy," Jak confirmed.

Sai'em examined him carefully for a minute before shrugging. "I guess I'll have to trust you."

The strange elf made a tiny whimpering sound and shook her head.

"Jyani, they wouldn't lie to us," Sai'em said.

The elf's eyes didn't leave Tir'ac. "Lord Ayulphel has ways to control people. They could be saying exactly what he wants them to say."

Sai'em shifted closer to her and rested a hand on her forearm. "If they take the collars off us, then will you believe them?"

The elf, Jyani, hesitated before nodding, a jerky, frightened gesture made without taking her eyes off Tir'ac.

"Will Ayulphel know?" Sai'em asked gently.

A shaky shrug. "He didn't the last time."

Sai'em turned back to Denil and pulled the neck of her shirt down so that he could see the wide band of metal wrapped at the base of her throat. "Can you get this off?"

Jak stepped forward slowly, as though he was trying not to startle a skittish deer. It was what Jyani overwhelmingly reminded Denil of. He was certain that, just as with a deer, any unexpected or sudden moves from any of the men would make her bolt.

It didn't take long for Jak to find and pick the lock on Sai'em's collar. The lock was tiny, but Jak's leather roll of tools proved to have a set of picks that were delicate enough to handle it. Tir'ac kept watch at the door while Jak cursed and muttered at the fiddly lock until it sprang open and the collar fell away.

Sai'em's transformation was stunning. For a moment she shone with bright white light that forced Denil to close his eyes. When it faded, the unnatural pallor and exhaustion had been swept away. Sai'em's clothes were still torn and dirty, but that didn't seem to matter anymore and she wore an expression of intense relief.

* * *

Sai'em had had no idea how much she'd always relied on magic being there, at her fingertips, until she was able to touch and absorb it again from the fields around her. She drank it in like a dying man finally given water; pulling it in until she was filled with so much power she burned with it. She could see the others shielding their eyes from the fury of light around her, but it didn't really seem important.

It felt like an eternity that she held that power inside, revelling in the sweet taste of energy and magic that banished the weariness and weakness of the past few days.

Eventually she had to release it or risk burning up in the fires of an overload. It was done slowly and reluctantly, though, and she held onto enough to be a useful weapon if she needed it.

Sai'em turned to look at Jyani, who was watching her with desperate hope in her eyes. "It's alright."

She had no idea why she said it, but it seemed to be the right thing because some of the desperation faded and Jyani seemed to relax slightly. Sai'em used a tiny portion of her magic as a probe to check their rescuers and found no mysterious links or unusual shields around their minds. Unless Ayulphel was much more subtle than she thought he was, there was no way he could be controlling them.

Before she allowed Jak to remove Jyani's collar, she knelt behind the other woman and brushed her fingers across it. Freed from its influence, Sai'em could now feel the complex web of spell stored in it, including something that could kill the wearer if they persisted in attempting to pick the lock. It didn't seem to be armed against anyone who was not collared picking the lock, which made sense in a place where no one would dare try it. Sai'em stepped away and gestured for Jak to remove the lock. She thought for a moment before picking up her own collar and slipping it into a pocket. The thing repelled her, but it needed to be studied if there was a chance that Ayulphel's people might be a continuing threat.

Jyani's transformation was as dramatic as Sai'em's had been. To Sai'em's senses she seemed to glow with rich green magic that tasted of living things and warm rain. Sai'em's power would feel like ice-blue light tinged with snow and aching coldness to Jyani's senses. Ayulphel's power tasted of blood, death and pain.

As Sai'em had, Jyani held some of her power after reluctantly allowing the excess to run back into the local energy fields. She still looked hungry, dirty and ragged, but there was an air of hope and determination that hadn't been there before.

Jyani stood and met Jak's eyes without flinching. "What's our plan?"

"Where will Ayulphel be now?" Jak asked.

"In his apartment, eating," Jyani answered promptly.

"And the boy? My son?"

"With him."

"How many guards are there?"

"Six in the corridor outside, none in the apartment."

"Good." A feral grin touched Jak's face, making him seem wild and angrier than Sai'em had ever seen. "We need an exit plan. Sai'em?"

She shook her head. "I'd need to be in the chamber we came in through to trace the portal spell back to our plane."

"And once we've attacked Ayulphel's apartment, the entire complex will be on alert. We can't fight our way out," Jak concluded.

Jyani cleared her throat quietly. "I may have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Lord Ayulphel shields the complex against the portal spell that he and his kindred use to travel between planes, but your spell breached that shield. I can't be sure why until I compare his spell with Sai'em's, but if I supplied the destination, we might be able to make a portal that would send you back to your own house." Jyani raised an eyebrow at Sai'em. "Would it work?"

"It might," Sai'em said thoughtfully, her mind already racing to add Jyani's new variable to the spell she'd cobbled together. "Commander, this could work."

"You're willing to help us?" Jak asked Jyani.

"Are you going to kill Ayulphel?" Fierce hatred shone in Jyani's eyes.

"Our priority is getting Charry out of here," Jak said.

"We're taking away his next host," Sai'em said quickly. "You said that he needs Charry to survive."

A vicious smile crossed Jyani's face. "He'll have to move into a much less powerful body or face a painful death. If he survives. I'm in."

"Now we just have to get there," Jak said. "Sorry, Tir'ac, but I don't think your 'transporting prisoners' thing will work this time."

"I concur," Tir'ac said.

This time Jyani didn't flinch when Tir'ac spoke. Sai'em wondered whether that was because she wasn't afraid anymore or whether she was too focused on finally escaping to worry about the source of the rescue.

"I may be able to help with that as well," Jyani said.

* * *

There was something distinctly unnatural about walking boldly through corridors filled with enemy guards. Denil had to suppress the urge to flinch every time another patrol passed them, and he could see the tension in Jak's shoulders in front of him. They kept to single file at the very edge of the passageways and Denil kept expecting one of the Kyari to see them and raise the alarm. The sensation only increased when they passed into the well-lit sections.

Jyani had explained, as she lopped off the bulbous head of a Kyari staff with her magic to create a stubby stave, that as long as they stayed within the light of her spell no one would see them. She was at the head of the column holding up the stave that now shone with bright, clear white light. The light only carried back in a narrow stripe just wider than a man and there was a visible edge to the spell, even in the corridors lit by mage-lights. It was clearly magic, but the bright light only made Denil more nervous. Logic said that light made someone more visible, not less, but so far there had been no outcry or challenge. They appeared to be invisible.

It wasn't long after they left the cells that a deep bell began sounding somewhere in the compound and the corridors filled with Kyari, marching or running and sometimes shouting orders to each other in their harsh language. There was no time to stop or change plans. Events were moving with the swiftness and inevitability of a landslide and second-guessing now could be disastrous, even if there had been anywhere private to talk. Instead, they moved as fast as they could while keeping as quiet as possible. It would be no good to be invisible if they made as much noise as a Kyari patrol in a nearly empty corridor. Denil just hoped that Ayulphel wasn't aware of the spell.

Somehow, it didn't matter if it was luck or skill, they came out on a corridor that was much emptier than the rest. Ten guards were positioned along it and the only door was a wide double one at the far end. There was only one person it could be long to, a thought confirmed when Jyani stopped and held up a hand. They all stopped and caught their breath for a moment. None of the Kyari appeared to have heard them. The armour these ones wore looked more elaborate than any of the other Kyari they'd seen, red enamelled with a stylised gold snake on their chests. Their crimson capes hung to their ankles and they even wore helmets in a dark, oily metal shaped to resemble serpent heads. Denil had time to decide they were special guards, maybe even bodyguards, and more numerous than Jyani had mentioned, and then the elf was signalling them to move forwards.

They moved slowly, placing each foot with exaggerated care and hardly daring to breathe in case sharp Kyari ears heard them. Denil didn't envy Jak and Tir'ac, trying to move silently in armour and mail that usually jingled or clanked with every step. They succeeded, though, and managed to get past the first pair of guards. Denil already had his staff in hand, though not extended, and Jak had unsheathed his sword before they left the cells. Their best hope was that forcing the Kyari to fight hand-to-hand again would give them a sufficient advantage. They would have the element of surprise, at least, and the skills of two powerful elves.

When Jyani and Sai'em stood between the third pair of guards, they stopped. Jak had already slowed down so that he and Denil were roughly even with the second set of guards and Tir'ac, bringing up the read, had the first set. That left four Kyari close to the doors, but there wasn't time to revise the plan. They would have to make the rest up as they went.

Jyani paused for a long, breathless second before lowering her glowing stave and allowing the light of the spell to dim and go out. Time stood still for a moment and then chaos erupted.

* * *

It was impossible to see faces beneath the helmets, but Jak was sure that their sudden appearance out of thin air had surprised Ayulphel's guard. His sword slid easily through the chain mail covering the junction between arm and body of his target. There was an ugly, metallic shriek as links parted and the edge of the sword scraped along the edge of the Kyari's breastplate. Jak angled the thrust into the body as much as he could and was rewarded with a sudden jerk before the Kyari went limp. He pulled his sword out with another grating shriek in time to meet the downward swing of another Kyari's staff. His arm almost went numb from the jarring vibration and he was forced back a couple of steps.

Someone - Jak was not sure who - shouted a warning and he ducked to allow a bolt of sizzling blue energy to pass overhead. It hit the other soldier in the chest and he collapsed to the floor with an agonised shout. Jak whirled to meet another Kyari and the fight became a blur of hacking, blocking and ducking until there was no red-enamelled armour around him. He turned in time to see blue fire shoot from Sai'em's hand and take out the last enemy soldier, but the fight was over. The air was filled with the smell of blood and charred flesh and the corridor was littered with dead or dying Kyari.

Jak made a quick visual check of his own people but none of them seemed seriously injured, although there was the beginning of a nasty bruise on Denil's face and his eyes seemed slightly unfocused. Jyani was already standing in front of the doors to Ayulphel's apartment with her arms raised. The doors glowed brilliant red for a moment before disintegrating into dust.

The space within the doorframe was shimmering as though heat-hazed, but Jak could make out the distorted figure of Ayulphel in rich robes standing in the centre of the room. Jyani raised one hand this time, palm out, and said a sharp word in Elvish. She made a jerky, pushing motion and the shield collapsed in a shower of multicoloured sparks. Now that he could see clearly, Jak had a moment of incredible satisfaction as Ayulphel paled and frowned.

Jyani staggered back with a gasp and Sai'em pulled her away. Jak didn't wait. Shouting over his shoulder for Tir'ac to defend the corridor, he ran towards Ayulphel with his sword up. Ayulphel lifted his hand in the same gesture Jyani had used and Jak felt something slam into his chest, sending him flying back to impact against the wall next to the door. The breath was knocked out of him and Jak slid to the floor, stunned. His sword lay a couple of feet away, but he couldn't get his arm to move towards it and he had to lie helplessly, gasping for air. Jak looked up to see Ayulphel moving towards him, hand poised. It took all his strength to roll away from the energy bolt heading towards him and the edge still caught his thigh, sending burning agony up his leg. Ayulphel's smile was filled with vicious enjoyment at Jak's pain.

A disturbance from the far end of the apartment distracted the smiling creature and he lowered his hand and took a couple of steps towards it. Jak's heart leapt when he saw Charry running towards him. He was wearing a simple shirt and breeches instead of the rich robes and he looked like the son that Jak loved. The illusion was shattered when Charry stood in front of Ayulphel facing his rescuers with a mixture of anger and fear on his face.

"Don't hurt my father," Charry said furiously, and it was obvious that he didn't mean Jak.

Ayulphel smiled as Jak swallowed the hurt. "You see? The boy doesn't wish to leave."

"The boy is under your influence," Sai'em said from the doorway. "He can't tell us what he wants."

Ayulphel shrugged and elegant shoulder. "The boy is mine. What he wants is no longer anyone's concern but my own."

* * *

Denil watched the faint wisp of smoke rising from Jak's thigh with horror. The fabric of his breeches had burned through in a patch the size of his palm, exposing red, charred flesh. The pain had to be incredible, but Jak didn't show it. His eyes were fixed on the blond boy standing defiantly in front of Ayulphel. The boy had to be Charry - he matched Jak's descriptions perfectly - but there was no kindness or concern in his eyes for Jak, only anger directed towards his rescuers. While the boy stood there, none of them could do anything for him.

Sai'em and Jyani had joined him in the ruined doorway and Denil was vaguely aware that Sai'em said something, but all he could focus on was the agony in Jak's eyes.

Jak turned and seemed to catch Denil watching him. He shook his head very subtly and darted his eyes towards Ayulphel. Denil understood the message and turned his attention to Charry's kidnapper.

The creature - that was the only word Denil could find to describe him - was repulsive and beautiful at once, a combination that made Denil's stomach roil.

Charry looked up at him with an expression of mindless adoration. "Why are these people here, Father?"

A smile slid across Ayulphel's perfect lips. "They have come to destroy me and steal you away, my love. They are evil."

Sai'em snorted. "Evil? We're against you, maybe, but we haven't poisoned a child's mind or corrupted a race."

"What would you know of corruption, cousin? You and your kin stay pristine and innocent in your ice and your woods, never interfering with anyone's affairs or defending those less powerful."

"You and your kin distorted our power and our race and caused the deaths of thousands."

"Your people held the swords and wielded the power that killed those men!" Ayulphel retorted, his eyes flashing gold suddenly.

"We didn't begin it," Sai'em said, angrier than Denil had ever heard her.

"Oh no? Who struck the first blow? It wasn't my people."

Slight movement out of the corner of Denil's eye pulled his attention away, towards Jak on the floor again. He had moved a little closer to Ayulphel and, as Denil watched, the former mercenary surreptitiously inched forward again and paused.

Denil tore his eyes away and was relieved to see that no one had noticed. Ayulphel and Sai'em were locked into their contest of wills and Charry was busy watching them. Jyani stood to one side leaning against the doorframe and she turned her head slightly. Denil was slightly surprised to see her wink, so quickly and subtly he almost thought he'd imagined it, before turning back to Ayulphel. There was no doubt in Denil's mind that she had also seen Jak's intent and Denil resolved not to give his lover away by a stray glance that might draw Ayulphel's attention to him.

"It seems that I hold all the cards," Ayulphel said triumphantly. "You will not risk the boy and my Kyari are already approaching. Give yourselves up and I will allow you to return to your collar."

"All the cards?" Sai'em said.

Her voice was suddenly so icy it sent shivers down Denil's spine and Jyani straightened from her exhausted slump.

"The boy is yours only because you have tricked his mind. All tricks fail in the end, though."

Sai'em didn't move or show any outward signs of her power, but for a moment Denil felt something brush his mind that reminded him of the clear night sky above snow-covered fields, pure and cold and alive. It moved on and Denil blinked to clear his eyes.

Then several things happened at once. Charry stiffened and his head shot back before he fell to the floor with a soft gasp. At the same time Ayulphel roared in a voice filled with pain and fury. Before he could do anything, Jak crawled forward the final few inches and reached up with a knife in his hand. The blade gleamed coldly for a moment before he plunged it high into Ayulphel's thigh.

Ayulphel screamed again and fell to his knees. In an instant Jak was on him and they grappled wildly before Jak fastened his fingers around Ayulphel's throat and began to choke him.

"Kill him," Jyani hissed, her eyes glittering.

Denil took half a step forward to stop the murder, but stopped. Ayulphel had already gone limp, much sooner than he should have, although Jak didn't move away or loosen his fingers. Sai'em cried out and dived on top of Charry. A moment later the shimmer of a shield covered them both.

Jyani screamed. "No! His soul is escaping!"

She turned and tried to run, but Denil caught her arm and held her back. Jyani whirled to face him and for a moment Denil knew that his life was in the balance.

"We have to get out of here and we need you to do it," he said urgently.

"He'll escape," Jyani said, almost crying.

She tried to struggle for another few heartbeats before sagging against him with a sob.

"Tir'ac!" Denil shouted.

"Many men approach," Tir'ac called from the far end of the corridor. "I will hold them off here."

"No, you need to hold these doors while Sai'em and Jyani get the portal working," Denil said firmly. "We can't take you with us if you aren't here."

Tir'ac seemed to waver for a moment before running up the corridor towards Denil. "I will hold the door, but do not take too long."

Denil pulled Jyani over to where Sai'em still lay behind her shield. "We need the portal. Now."

He didn't wait to see what she would do, instead moving to where Jak half-lay across the husk of Ayulphel's body. As he approached, he saw that the hair on the body was rapidly whitening. The entire body was aging as though a hundred years had been compressed into moments. Jak rolled away just before the ruined body crumbled into a pile of dust inside fine, rich robes and gems.

Denil knelt and touched Jak's hand. "Jak?"

Jak opened his eyes. "Denil."

The sound was somewhere between a whisper and a sigh, but at least he was alert. Denil clasped his hand tightly.

"How bad is your leg?"

"Hurts like crap. How does it look?"

"It's looked better."

Jak nodded. "Where is Charry?"

The shimmering shield around Sai'em and Charry was gone and the boy now lay on his own. His chest rose and fell with slow breaths and there was colour in his cheeks. He looked as though he was simply sleeping.

Denil helped Jak to crawl over to his son. Jak's eyes were bright with tears that he refused to shed as he lay next to Charry and gently brushed his hair away from his face.

"He looks the way he used to, before..." Jak's voice cracked. "So young."

The sound of staff-bolts drew Denil's attention to the ruined door where Tir'ac was fighting off the first wave of Kyari. Sai'em and Jyani stood face to face by the door clasping each other's hands. Denil thought he could see the faint outline of balls of green and blue fire around their joined hands, but the impression was gone as soon as he tried to focus on it.

The air began to thicken with the tense, electric feel that he remembered from the portal. Sai'em and Jyani turned their heads at the same time to stare intently at the doorway.

"Tir'ac, you should be in here now," Sai'em said in a flat monotone.

The Kyari didn't hear her, still busy with his fight.

"Tir'ac!" Denil shouted, "They're opening the portal in that doorway - you have to get in here."

That seemed to get through to him and he thumped the butt of his staff into his opponent, sending him sprawling, before diving through the doorway. He was only just in time. A moment later the lightning flickers began chasing up and down the frame, darting into the space between until the entire structure was covered with points of darting light. Through squinting eyes, Denil was able to make out one Kyari charging towards the doorway and he took his staff off his belt to defend Jak and Charry. The Kyari roared something unintelligible and plunged into the light, but never emerged on the other side.

The light suddenly rushed into a sold sheet of pale blue before splashing out. Denil flinched away as the rushing light came within a few inches of Charry before falling back into a rippling, bright blue surface. The outline of the corridor and more charging Kyari could just be made out through it, but they all stopped before running into the back of the portal.

Then Tir'ac was in front of Denil picking Charry up as though he weighed no more than a feather and was more precious than gold.

"We must go now," Jyani and Sai'em said in unison. "We cannot hold the spell for long."

Denil grabbed Jak's arm, slung it over his shoulder and heaved them both to their feet. He half-carried, half-dragged Jak towards the portal and followed Tir'ac and Charry through, this time prepared for the shocking cold that seemed to freeze mind and body. They stumbled out into the hallway of Jak's house and Denil tugged Jak away from the portal before collapsing next to him. Sai'em and Jyani followed a moment later and then the portal collapsed, leaving them in the dark.

* * *

Two floors below Ayulphel's apartment, a sleeping Kyari's eyes snapped open and he began to shake as though he was having a fit. When the tremors ceased, the Kyari went completely still for a long moment, hardly seeming to breathe. Then one finger twitched, and another, and he began to move with jerky motions as though he was not used to working his own limbs. He sat up and when his eyes opened this time they flashed with bright gold fire.

Ayulphel held a hand up to his eyes and examined the short, stubby fingers that had replaced his elegant ones. The new body felt fat and stiff, as though its former occupant had not cared for it properly for a long time. It also had little power, barely enough to light a candle without struggling, and that was even more intolerable than its ugliness.

Ayulphel took a deep breath and roared his rage.

* * *

Jak wouldn't allow anyone to treat his leg until he was sure that Charry would recover, even though the pain was now almost unbearable. He allowed Denil to prop him in the doorway of Charry's room before the scholar ran to wake Elsa. From there he could watch as Tir'ac gently laid the boy on his bed and removed his boots before tucking Charry into the fresh, clean sheets Elsa put on the bed for when he returned. Jak's eyes never left his son.

When Charry was settled, Sai'em spent a moment with her hand on his forehead before moving to crouch in front of Jak.

"Charry will be fine," she said reassuringly. "I broke Ayulphel's connection to him and put shields around his mind. The effects sent him into a sort of shock, but he'll sleep it off in a few hours. There's no lasting damage and when he wakes up I can put up better shields to make sure no one can ever get into his mind again."

"Thank you," Jak said, sure that the words would never be enough to thank any of them for what they'd done.

Sai'em nodded and stood. Jak closed his eyes for only a moment, but suddenly someone was tugging at his arms and he looked up to see Denil's face hovering a few inches away. He couldn't quite remember why it was inappropriate to kiss him where they were.

"We need to get your leg looked at," Denil said.

How had he forgotten about the pain that now seemed to be all he could think about? Jak had a sneaking suspicion that he might be verging on delirious.

"Put your arm around me and I'll help you," Denil said. "That's right, like that."

Jak gritted his teeth and silently rehearsed every curse he knew. Maybe he could get Denil to teach him some new ones in the ancient languages he loved. The scholar probably had a pile of suitably vicious-sounding curses and insults.

"Crap," Jak muttered as he brushed the door of his bedroom.

Then he howled as the motion of falling on his bed sent waves of agony up and down his leg before everything went dark and he stopped feeling anything.

* * *

Jak woke up feeling rested and comfortable, although for a long moment he had no idea why that should be a surprise. Then it all came rushing back. Against all the odds, his son was alive and asleep in his bed down the hall. Unless it had all been a dream...?

He opened his eyes and saw mid-morning sunlight flooding in through the window.

"You're awake."

Jak turned towards the voice and found Denil sitting in a chair in the corner with a book in his lap.

"Hello," Jak said.

His throat was dry and his voice sounded rusty. A brief smile lit up Denil's face. He stood and picked up a mug that had been sitting on a small table next to him. Jak wondered who had brought up the extra furniture. Denil sat next to him on the bed and held up the mug.

"It's just water," he said with another gentle smile.

"Sounds great," Jak croaked.

He managed to sit up and prop some pillows behind his back so that he could drink without spilling. The water tasted better than the finest beer he'd ever drunk and Jak drained the mug thirstily.

"How are you feeling?" Denil asked.

"Fine." Jak's voice already sounded better. "Should I?"

"How's your leg?"

Jak suddenly remembered the searing pain of Ayulphel's magic, but there was only a slight twinge now when he flexed his thigh.

"Now bad. What happened?"

"Jyani healed you."

"As in," Jak waved his hand in a vaguely mystical gesture, "healed me?"

"Yes."

"It barely hurts."

"Jyani is much better at healing magic than Sai'em, although I think she scared a few years off Elsa's life when she began."

Jak tried to imagine his housekeeper's reaction to the healing spell he'd seen Sai'em use on Denil and the image made him grin. "How long have I been out? Where is Charry?"

"Three days and he's in the kitchen with Jyani," Denil said. "They've been making friends - whenever he isn't here, he's usually talking to her."

"Is he alright?" Jak asked urgently.

Denil rested his hand on Jak's forearm. "He's fine. Sai'em put shields around his mind and this house so that Ayulphel will never be able to take him again. I think he and Jyani are good for each other. They've been talking a lot and it seems to be helping them both. Do you want me to bring him up?"

Jak nodded and Denil began to get up. Losing Denil's touch on his arm sent a shiver through Jak and he caught Denil's arm before he could leave.

"Wait one moment," Jak murmured as he tugged Denil towards him.

Denil seemed to read his intention and their lips met in a warm kiss. It wasn't an intense kiss, more a reminder of what they had and a promise for later. Jak wasn't breathing hard when they parted, but something warm and contented had unfurled deep inside. He brushed his fingers through Denil's short, uneven hair and smiled. Denil squeezed his hand and moved away.

"We'll be back in a minute," was all he said.

Jak settled back against his pillows for a moment, until the movement reminded him of a pressing problem. It was fine to wear nothing but a bandage on his thigh while he slept in bed, covered by sheets and blankets, but he wasn't comfortable with being in the same state when he finally held his son again. He scanned the room and spotted clean linens, shirt and breeches piled on the blanket box at the end of the bed. He could smell the residue of stale sweat and rust on his skin, but he threw the covers back anyway. Bathing could wait.

He was surprised by how shaky his legs were when he tried to stand and had to settle for carefully crawling down the bed instead. Pulling on the clothes was awkward and left him feeling even shakier and panting slightly. He was still lacing up his shirt when there was a knock at the door and it slowly opened.

Charry stood hesitantly in the doorway with Denil hovering in the background. Jak waited, but Charry refused to raise his eyes or come towards him.

"Charry?" he said eventually.

The boy flinched. "I'm sorry, Father."

"What for?"

"I remember what I said to you," Charry said quietly, still looking at the floor.

"Ayulphel was in your mind. You didn't have any control over what you said," Jak said gently.

Charry looked up for a brief moment before lowering his eyes again. "That's what Jyani said. It was like there was a part of me in a box, trying to get out, but I didn't listen to it. Everything _he_ said seemed so much more real than everything else."

"She was right."

"I...you're not angry?"

"Of course I'm not. I love you."

"Really?" Charry finally dared to meet his eyes. " _He_ said you weren't my father and Denil said he was right, but that you think like you're my father anyway."

Jak grimaced. "Ayulphel was right about some things but he also lied - he wasn't your father either. You may not be my flesh and blood but I couldn't love you any more if you were."

A dam seemed to break inside Charry and he ran towards Jak crying "Father" in a broken voice. Jak held him while he cried and tears ran down his own cheeks as well. When he finally looked up, Denil had left.

* * *

Denil returned later with a heavily laden tray of food and the three had a picnic on Jak's bed. Charry's tears were mostly forgotten and he talked about everything apart from his captivity. Jak was content to sit back against his pillows and listen and laugh whenever appropriate. Denil's blue eyes were alight with laughter too and Charry already seemed to have ferreted out a lot of his life story. He made the scholar promise to tell him stories before bed.

Midway through a discussion of one of Charry's favourite adventure stories, exhaustion hit Jak and he blinked a few times before allowing his eyes to drift shut.

It was dark when he woke and Denil was sitting in his chair with a book again.

"Jyani said you'd be tired for a while," Denil said when Jak's eyes opened. "You look better, though."

Jak yawned widely and sat up. "Falling asleep like that could get a little annoying."

Denil's lips twitched in an almost-smile. "It should wear off in a day or two. You were lucky. It was a bad burn and Jyani said the magic contaminated it somehow so she had to do a lot of work to repair it. You might have died if we hadn't had her."

"Remind me not to fight elves again."

"He wasn't an elf, exactly. Sai'em and Jyani promise to explain properly when you're up to it. They don't want to do it twice, so we're all waiting until you're well enough to have a long conference about what happened."

"Sorry to hold you all up," Jak said with a wry grin.

Denil shrugged. "The delay gives us time to work out exactly what did happen. I've been trying to write it down, but I think I'll need everyone's versions to make any sense of it."

He stood and put his book on the table next to his chair before Jak could say anything. "I'm going to find some supper - Jyani said it's important to replace the energy you've lost - and then we're going to have a proper night's sleep."

Jak almost groaned at the though of more sleep, but he couldn't deny that he was already struggling to keep his eyes open.

* * *

It was another two days before Jak had recovered enough to sit in the kitchen with the others for a sort of council on what had happened. Two nights of hearing his son's terrified screams from nightmares that he refused to talk about. Jak had to let Denil help him down the corridor to Charry's room and he always found Jyani there ahead of him comforting Charry. The fact that Charry held out his arms in mute plea for a hug from his father didn't entirely wipe away the sting from finding him crying into the elf's shoulder. Charry always insisted that they both stay until he was asleep again, as though their presence could ward away the dreams for a while.

Finally Jak woke up feeling refreshed and energised with no remnants of the exhaustion that had dragged him back into sleep so many times. It would probably take time to regain the physical strength he'd always had, but the lingering effects of Jyani's healing were fading. It was still early in the morning and Jak knew that he wouldn't sleep again for a while. With real winter now upon them, the dawn was getting later and mornings were often staying dim until fairly late.

Jak rolled over and regarded Denil, still sleeping beside him, although the lines of stress and exhaustion had faded from his face. Denil had turned out to be quite different from the man Jak had expected and he knew that Charry wouldn't be home without him. That wasn't the reason why Jak's heart seemed to miss a beat whenever he saw Denil's blue eyes or why he wanted to see the beautiful smile that so rarely appeared. Somehow Jak had grown to care about him more than he'd ever cared about anyone before except for his son. It made him feel happy and depressed at the same time; happy because Denil was there and he could touch him and see him, but depressed because Denil wouldn't stay. It couldn't be long before Denil would return to Eto and they would probably never meet again. Why would a former mercenary ever need to visit a city filled with scholars?

Jak pushed away the unhappy thought and leaned forward to kiss Denil awake. They kissed until they were both gasping, and made love in silence. Afterwards they lay facing each other with their arms around each other's waists and Jak watched a smile slowly spread across Denil's face and crinkle the skin at the corners of his eyes.

"Hi," Denil said softly.

Jak smiled, too. He couldn't stop himself. "Hello."

"I guess you're feeling better."

"I guess I am. What gave me away?"

Denil's snort of laughter made Jak smile wider. Then they were kissing again, slow, leisurely kisses that probably wouldn't lead anywhere but it never hurt to find out.

Eventually they parted and Denil sighed quietly. "The others will be up and wondering where we are."

"Let them wonder. They can probably guess."

Jak was amused to see a hint of a blush on Denil's cheeks.

"There are things we need to talk about before I..." Denil paused and cut the thought off. "We need to talk about a few things."

Jak could fill in the missing words: 'before I leave'. It was annoying that Denil was being responsible and sensible about something when Jak just wanted to pull the covers over his head and pretend it wasn't going to happen. Straightening out stories had to be done eventually and putting it off would only delay the inevitable. That didn't mean that Jak had to be happy about it.

They bathed and dressed and Jak was pleased to note that he needed no aid with either task. They were the last to arrive in the kitchen even though the day wasn't fully light. Elsa had prepared breakfast and Jak insisted that she join them so that she could hear the tale of their adventures. Her blushes and fluttering when Tir'ac thanked her for the 'excellent repast' were comical in the normally down to earth and maternal housekeeper.

It took most of the morning and several pots of tea for everyone to tell their stories. Jak had already decided that Charry was old enough to find out what had really happened, so he was included. Only knowing small snippets would probably be more damaging to him than knowing the full story. Charry didn't add anything, but his presence along with Elsa required them to go over everything that had happened since his kidnapping. They frequently interrupted each other to correct or add things as they tried to create a timescale of events and Elsa often asked for extra details where they had only skimmed over things. Eventually they reached the point where Jyani healed Jak and Denil grimaced as he described cutting away the cloth around the burn.

"Ayulphel used something I've never seen before," Jyani explained. "Levin-bolts burn the flesh but they don't contaminate the wound. The energy for healing comes in part from my reserves and also from the person I'm healing. That's why you've spent so much time sleeping to restore yourself."

"Yeah, well." Jak coughed uncomfortably. "Thanks for patching me up. Feels much better."

Twin spots of pink appeared high on Jyani's cheeks and her eyes glittered with pleasure at the gruff praise. She'd cleaned up surprisingly well. Her hair had been washed and brushed so that the auburn tints shone in the lamplight and Elsa had quickly found and altered a dark green dress that highlighted her green eyes. It wasn't cut in elven style and didn't have fancy embroidery, but it looked much better than the grey rags she'd been wearing.

"I've put shields around Charry's mind," Sai'em said. "When he comes into his powers he'll be able to maintain them himself."

Jak was sure that neither of them would be thinking about the possibility until they absolutely had to. His son becoming a wizard or an elf sorcerer? No, he wasn't ready for that.

"I've also put shields around this house," Sai'em continued. "They aren't physical, but Jyani says they should prevent any portals forming inside and I've powered them from one of the local fields."

"What about the wizards?" Jak asked. "Will they detect them?"

There was an embarrassed silence before Elsa spoke up. "I don't think you need worry about that, sir. Wizards were here the night you came back and Mistress Jyani saw them off well enough."

Jak raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

It was Denil who tried to explain. "They came a couple of hours after Jyani healed you. You were out cold and she didn't want us trying to wake you, so we took care of it."

"What did they want?"

"They both wore red-trimmed robes and refused to give their names."

"Sixth-level wizards," Jak said with a sigh. "The worst of the lot."

Denil nodded. "They said that they'd felt disturbances here, both times corresponding to portal spells."

"I think it was because of the spell I put together," Sai'em added. "It was based partly on a human spell so it was much leakier than anything I'd normally do. Probably some of the power surge spilled over and they detected it."

Jak shrugged. "It couldn't be helped."

"It was probably basing your spell on a human spell that allowed it to punch through Ayulphel's shields," Jyani said. "It felt different to the spell he had me working."

"So how did you get rid of them?" Jak asked.

There was another embarrassed silence and then Jyani stood up. At the same time a patch of empty space a few feet away began to glow and shift, gradually taking on shape until Jak found that he was staring at something that looked a lot like...Jak.

"Is that...?" He turned to Denil for confirmation.

The scholar nodded silently.

It was remarkably life-like, right down to the scar on his eyebrow.

"Is my hair really that grey?" he asked.

"It sounds better if you call it silver," Denil said as a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"It's very distinguished, sir," Elsa added.

"Among my people, white hair is a sign of wisdom," Tir'ac said gravely.

"Can it move?" Jak asked.

The illusionary Jak lifted his hand and waved. "Hello."

Even the voice sounded eerily familiar.

"And we got rid of the wizards with that?"

"In a way," Jyani said.

Before his eyes, Jyani appeared to grow until she was taller than Sai'em. Her hair lengthened until it fell to her waist and a few tiny braids appeared, holding back the rest of her hair to expose pointed ears. Her dress also changed, lightening to pale green and turning from wool into something lighter and finer. The neckline changed slightly and gold embroidery slithered down her sleeves and around her waist. She looked like something that had stepped out of an illustration in one of Charry's adventure books. Jak glanced at his son, who was watching Jyani's transformation with a sagging jaw.

"My people live in human lands, so we use illusion and misdirection to stay hidden," Jyani said.

Even her voice seemed different, echoing somehow or hollow. Slowly both illusions faded away and Jyani sat down.

"It was enough to convince the wizards, anyway," she said with a faint smile. "Appearance is everything to them."

"So they know there's an elf in the house," Jak concluded.

Jyani nodded. "I told them that Denil had contracted us when they refused to allow him into their library because he recognised a few characters that you were able to sketch for him. The first disturbance was my arrival and the second came when I traced Charry and retrieved him. I think they believed me."

"I guess it's a story I can work on if they ask more questions," Jak conceded.

"They won't dare to interfere with Jyani," Sai'em said, "and my shielding should keep them from sensing anything unusual from Charry. Denil and I might be a different matter."

"Why?"

It was Denil who answered. "To all appearances, we're both humans and we were able to contact elves living over two hundred miles away without leaving Genta. It won't take them long to start thinking about how we did it - I'm surprised they haven't already demanded that we be interviewed in their compound. Jyani's presence might delay them a little, but we can't stay here for much longer."

"How soon do you leave?" Jak asked numbly.

"I need to speak to my people as soon as possible," Sai'em said.

"Tir'ac can't stay either," Denil said.

"Denil of Errith has offered to speak to the commander of his city guard regarding a position," Tir'ac said in his deep rumble. "I will ensure that he arrives in Eto without harm."

"How soon?" Jak repeated.

"We have a week or more of clear weather before another storm comes through," Denil said. "It would probably be best to try to reach the North Road before the weather deteriorates again."

The pain that Jak felt at the prospect was reflected in Denil's eyes, but it wasn't a comfort. He'd assumed they would have more time together, weeks rather than less than a day. Charry looked just as distressed and he put a small hand into Jak's and held on tightly.

"We'll probably leave tomorrow morning," Sai'em said "We've only been waiting until you were stronger. The backlash weather has passed and we can't delay further. My people must know that Ayulphel and his kin are alive."

Arguing and sulking wouldn't achieve anything other than making them part on bad terms so Jak sighed and did neither.

"I wish it wasn't so soon," Jak said quietly.

"So do I," Denil admitted.

"We don't have any choice, though," Sai'em said firmly.

They sat in unhappy silence for a while and Elsa made another pot of tea. She refreshed cold cups before looking around expectantly.

"Isn't anyone going to ask them?" she said eventually. "No one is curious?"

"Curious about what?" Jak asked.

"This Ayulphel creature and how Mistress Sai'em knows him," she said, her tone implying that Jak was possibly missing part of his mind.

Sai'em paled. "I know of him, but I don't know him. Exactly."

"What do you know of him, then?" Jak asked, his own curiosity now roused as he remembered her confrontation with the creature. "He seemed to recognise you."

"It's against our laws to discuss it with humans," Sai'em said.

Denil snorted. "You've already broken a lot of those laws - one more can't hurt."

"We'll just make assumptions - probably worse than the truth - if you don't tell us," Jak added.

"We may as well tell them," Jyani said softly. "It might be better coming from us."

Sai'em stared at her half-drunk tea for a while before looking at Tir'ac. "What do you know about the origins of your people?"

"Only the things that I was taught, which I now believe to be lies," Tir'ac said. "That Lord Ayulphel and his kindred were attacked without cause and forced to leave their plane. That we will be hunted and persecuted for all our days and that one day they will return in glory to destroy the usurpers and regain their world."

"A little truth seasoned with a lot of lies and distorted facts," Sai'em mused. "Much more effective than outright lies."

"So I have come to believe."

"They began the war, not us," Sai'em said.

"War?" Denil asked.

Jak couldn't blame him. Somehow elves always seemed removed from the fighting that swept human lands too often. He couldn't imagine elves going to war any more than he could imagine fish flying, even though Sai'em was skilled with staff, sword and bow.

"Maybe you'll understand why we don't want humans knowing about it if I explain properly," Sai'em said sadly. "Humans already either fear or respect us, often both, if they believe we exist at all. Knowing our true strength would only make the mistrust worse and we don't want to have to fight to defend ourselves. Not again."

She poured a fresh cup of tea before continuing. "Lord Ayulphel and his kind were elves once. There were originally three races of elves: ice, woodland and plain. When our world began dying, the plains elves were struck hardest. Volcanoes appeared in the grasslands were they lived and only a remnant reached the wood elves. They fled our world with us and when we decided to stay on this plane they went to the empty grasslands and began rebuilding. My people went north and paid very little attention to what was happening outside their cities. They had no idea that the plains elves had multiplied and taken human slaves. They conquered their neighbours and enslaved every wizard they found to increase their power. Plains elves have always had the least magic and the shortest lives, but they subdued human lands and grew armies of slaves and wizards. They created an empire."

"Gilder," Denil breathed.

"Gilder," Sai'em confirmed. "It happened so fast, after centuries of peace here, that no one could believe it at first. Then a messenger came to my people in the north from the wood elves. The Gilderaan armies were advancing east and massing on the borders of their forests. They needed aid or they would be destroyed. The Council met and they tried to mediate with the plains elves, but the representatives the Council sent disappeared. That left war their only choice and everyone who could fight was formed into an army."

"Even fighting together, our numbers couldn't match their Empire," Jyani said. "The war was fought with magic as well as armies, our most powerful sorcerers against the plains elves' army of human wizards. Eventually, we won."

"Thousands died and a lot of the land they had taken was drained by the magical battle," Sai'em continued. "The final battle was at their chief city, Geijder, and for some reason they refused to surrender, even though they knew that the couldn't win. My people had to kill them all and we've never understood why until now."

"So what have you found out?" Denil asked.

"They were a rear-guard," Sai'em said. Her blue eyes were dark and troubled. "They weren't fighting to survive or escape, they were stalling to give a few the chance to leave through portals. Lord Ayulphel and the other twelve Lords were the sons of the plains elves' leaders. They must have escaped while their fathers held off our army. At the end, nobody had the heart to count the dead and it was always assumed that no one on their side survived."

"There were thousands of bodies," Jyani said. "Our forefathers only wanted to erase the slaughter from their minds. We're taught what happened, but it's never discussed and we never tell humans about it."

"You covered it up," Denil said, and Jak couldn't tell what was in his voice, but he didn't sound happy.

Sai'em shrugged. "The Council did. There was so much chaos after the war that it wasn't hard to wipe it out of human records and they forgot after a couple of generations. You're the first humans we've told."

"You distorted history."

"Everyone distorts history. The truth is in the eye of the beholder. We did it for good reasons - can you imagine how humans would regard us if they had any idea what we did? Do you know how many would die if some foolish king decided to raise an army and march against us? That's why we hide and try to look harmless. Knowing that we were responsible for a slaughter on that scale would only make humans more afraid of us, and fear leads to hatred, resentment and eventually war."

There was a long silence before Denil sighed. "I guess I can see your point of view."

The final pieces of the mystery were falling into place and Jak suddenly realised that finding his son had only been a small part of their adventure. It had been the only aim for him, but Sai'em and Jyani had come away with a much larger picture to consider. Those things weren't his concern, though, because his son was sitting at his side and would never be taken away again.

* * *

There was a quiet, sombre mood in the house for the rest of the day even though nobody mentioned wars or plains elves again. Jak was torn between spending time with Charry or Denil, and solved the dilemma by spending the afternoon playing card games with both in the den. Everyone else disappeared to their rooms or found chores in the stables. After supper, Denil quietly told Charry a story and Jak found that he was listening as intently as his son, enjoying the measured rhythm of the words almost as much as the content.

When Charry left to change for bed, Denil sat back in his armchair with an amused twinkle in his eye. "I suppose I shouldn't tell him that was a poem written over five hundred years ago, should I?"

Jak grinned. "Probably best not to. Boys his age aren't supposed to like poetry."

"I didn't think you liked poetry either."

"I was humouring him."

"Uh-huh," Denil said sceptically.

Jak gathered his dignity before Denil could further deflate it and went upstairs to tuck Charry in for the night. It had always been a part of the nightly ritual when he could manage to be home for it and somehow getting back into those rituals seemed important. Charry apparently felt it too because he was sitting up on his bed dressed in his nightshirt with a freshly scrubbed face. The room had been tidied and Paet had repaired the damage as well as he could, although Jak knew that the furniture with the worst gashes would have to be replaced anyway.

Jak hugged Charry tightly before helping him to lie down and pull the covers up. He brushed Charry's hair away from his eyes, reminding himself to cut it soon, and was unsurprised to see questions in his son's eyes. It was going to take a long time, probably years, to properly sort through what had happened and put it to rest.

"Father," Charry said slowly.

"Yes?"

Charry hesitated and licked his lips uncertainly. "I have a question."

Jak forced a smile off his face. He had a feeling that Charry would not appreciate it at the moment. "Go on."

" _He_ created me."

Jak winced, but there was no point in hiding the truth from Charry. "In a way, I guess he did."

"And one day I would have become him." It was part statement and part question.

Jak wouldn't lie to his son. "He would have stolen your body - big difference."

Charry took a deep breath. "Does that make me evil?"

"What?"

"He made me a certain way and he was evil. Shouldn't I be evil too?"

Trust a child to see into ideas that Jak hadn't had the courage to think about yet. He'd never liked philosophical questions like this. Life was easier if he left the scholars to think about abstracts like the nature of evil and he simply concentrated on getting through life as best he could. He was half tempted to send Charry to Denil for this conversation, but that would be wrong in every way. Denil could probably give him a solid, academic discussion about good and evil that would give Charry plenty to think about. He might even be able to use logic to persuade Charry that he wasn't fundamentally evil. What Charry really needed was reassurance from his father.

"You don't have to be evil," Jak said after a long pause to order his thoughts. "Nobody is built to be evil. It's something you choose."

There were tears in Charry's eyes, but he dashed them away before they could fall. "I would have become evil, though, when he took over, wouldn't I?"

"It wouldn't have been you." Jak laid his hand on Charry's chest over his heart. "He would have destroyed everything that makes you who you are. The flesh and blood stuff would have been you, but it wouldn't have been you making your body do things. He only wanted to breed physical traits because he knew that those could be bred. Your mind and your soul are your own and could never have been changed by him. You can choose."

A small, wan smile appeared. "I want to be like you."

"That's a choice, though, not something built into you." Jak said. "You aren't made to be evil, any more than anyone else."

"I choose not to be like him. I choose not to be evil." The smile on Charry's face became a little stronger. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'm your father." Jak smiled to let him know that he was joking.

"Good." Charry sighed. "I'm going to have powers one day."

"Maybe."

"What will happen?"

"I don't know," Jak said honestly. "It's something we'll work out if it happens."

"I don't think I want to leave here yet. This is home."

"I know."

"I definitely don't want to live with the wizards."

"I wouldn't let them have you."

"Maybe I could ask Jyani to teach me," Charry said thoughtfully. "She says that her forest isn't too far away. We could live with the elves and nobody would ever hurt us again."

Jak smiled and tucked the covers securely around him. "Don't worry about it yet."

"I won't." Charry yawned sleepily. "It won't happen for years. Jyani told me."

"She's probably right. Elves often seem to be."

"Good night, Father."

Jak kissed his forehead. "Good night."

He was at the door when he heard a whispered "I love you" and whispered it back.

* * *

Denil wasn't sure what to do with himself. He lay down on the bed, but after a couple of minutes he stood again and began moving restlessly around the room. It was his last night in Genta and he had a fair idea of what would happen. He and Jak would make love at least once, probably more, tying to imprint the memory so that it would last a lifetime. The only question was whether they would argue before or after the sex.

Maybe it had been selfish to surprise Jak with the announcement that he was leaving in the way he had. Denil had always known that he wouldn't stay in Genta. So had Jak. He hadn't really had a timetable for his departure until he spoke to Sai'em before breakfast, although the prospect of clear weather had made him think about it frequently while Jak healed. There had been several times when he'd wished for the annoying itch at the back of his mind that signalled imminent bad weather. Now it was the last night and they would probably spend part of it fighting about when he left. Maybe he should have at least mentioned it sooner.

Denil heard footsteps in the hallway and was still undecided about where he should be when the door opened. The surprising part was that Jak didn't look like a man about to either fight or seduce. He looked thoughtful, even troubled, and he sat on the edge of the bed without a word.

"Jak?" Denil said, hesitating while he wondered whether he should join Jak or stay where he was. Jak's expression gave him no clue. "Jak?"

"I was talking with Charry."

It wasn't really an invitation, but Denil took it as one anyway and sat on the end of the bed. He drew up his legs and sat facing the other man so he could watch his profile.

"What did he tell you?" he asked.

Jak shrugged. "Not much. He wanted to know whether he was evil."

"Oh."

"I almost sent him to talk to you. Good and evil stuff is more your speciality than mine."

"I'm a linguist, not a scholar."

"You're a scholar - you think about that stuff. I don't."

"Of course you do," Denil said bluntly.

Jak looked up with an expression of surprise. "I do? I can't say that I'd noticed."

"You chose to become a mercenary with the Wolves rather than anything else so that you wouldn't have to kill innocents and civilians, am I right?"

"Well..."

"You deliberately made sure that you would never have to carry out orders that would harm the wrong people or condone evil in your comrades," Denil continued. "Most men who want to fight sign up with their own army, even though half the time those armies sit around and do nothing except look pretty in their capital cities. The rest of the time those armies are fighting the wars their king wants to fight and ignoring any atrocities that might happen while their backs are turned, if they aren't committing the atrocities themselves. Anyone who goes merc usually fights for whatever they can get in loot and pay, never mind the victim. You chose to join a Company that has a reputation for doing the exact opposite."

"I..."

"You made a choice based on your idea of right and wrong and you're still doing that by commanding a city watch. You wouldn't have made those choices if you hadn't spent a lot of time developing a personal philosophy of good and evil."

There was a long silence and Denil wondered whether he had overstepped the bounds of whatever their friendship was. It had all seemed obvious to him after a couple of months of watching and knowing Jak. No matter how hard Jak pretended to be the simple, unthinking mercenary, he was as far from that stereotype as he could be.

"What did you tell him?" Denil asked eventually to break the silence.

Jak snorted. "I told him evil was a choice, not something you were born to be."

Denil concealed a smile.

"You know why you're really annoying?" Jak asked lightly. "You're always right. It could get on my nerves."

"I'm not always right." Denil grinned. "Just mostly."

Jak returned the grin, but it faded quickly. "I suppose I can't ask you to stay so that I can find out."

Denil shook his head. "What would I do here? The only place I could work is exactly where I can't be."

"And I can't leave here," Jak said. "Charry needs familiar surroundings right now. I can't take him away from everything he knows."

"He might have to leave eventually when his powers start developing. We have no idea what might happen."

"I'll think about that when the time comes." Jak sighed. "Maybe it won't have to happen."

"He won't start developing anything until his body and mind are mature enough to cope," Denil said. "My weather-sense appeared early because it wasn't a traumatic or difficult gift to manage. The little bits that I've put together over the years seem to say that other gifts - human and elven - lie dormant until they can be used safely. It could be years before Charry shows anything."

"Although if his eyes turn orange that might be a dead give-away," Jak said humourlessly.

"I'm not sure they will. Ayulphel's weren't and neither are Sai'em's."

"I don't think it will happen either," Jak admitted. "He could probably stay here safely for a long time."

Denil forced a smile onto his face. "If you're ever in Eto, you know how to find me."

"Same goes for you."

They were silent for a few breaths and then Denil sighed. "It probably won't happen."

"Probably not." Jak leaned forward and kissed Denil slowly. "It would be a nice thought, though."

"Mm. Maybe if you ever need to get away from here, you could remember me?"

"I will."

They kissed again and Denil flicked his tongue over Jak's lips, memorising their taste.

"We could probably talk around everything all night," he said, closing his eyes as Jak nuzzled below his ear, "but that wouldn't change anything."

"Bad idea," Jak said indistinctly. "Wastes time."

Denil was in complete agreement with that sentiment and showed it by leaning forward, pressing Jak to the bed and kissing him hungrily. Jak groaned his appreciation and any thoughts fled from Denil's mind in a rush of desire and need.

* * *

Denil checked his saddle on Bereth one last time and patted her shoulder. Iyani the packhorse looked thoroughly disgusted to be out in the cold, crisp morning, but the rest of the horses were impatiently pawing the ground while they waited for their riders to depart. A large dark brown horse had been found for Tir'ac and Jyani would be riding a delicate black mare with one white foot. Iyani barely had any more to carry than what she had arrived with. Tir'ac and Jyani had each managed to fit their meagre belongings into the saddlebags on their own horses. Sai'em wore her Ventaxian disguise and Jyani would be creating illusions to make sure that they all appeared to be who they said they were rather than who they really were.

He turned towards the house and the small gathering in front of it. Charry was bundled in warm furs because he refused to watch them leave from an upstairs window. Elsa and Paet had insisted on helping to saddle the horses, saying quiet goodbyes as they went, and Denil had no doubt that Elsa had managed to slip a bit of extra food into the packs and saddlebags. It was hard to say goodbye to all of them, but the worst was Jak. They had already said a private goodbye in Jak's bedroom, long kisses and no promises because they didn't want to lie. Now it was the final goodbye and Denil was sure that they would never see each other again.

Charry ran forward and Jyani fell to her knees so that they could hug tightly. Denil's heart was in his throat as Jak stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. He returned the embrace with all his strength, squeezing his eyes together until the hot prickling went way.

"I'm going to miss you," Jak whispered. "I am going to miss you so much."

Denil had to swallow hard before his voice worked. "I'll miss you, too."

Jak pulled back slightly so their eyes could meet and lock. "Take care of yourself. Promise?"

"Promise, if you do the same."

Then there was another rib-crushing hug, a moment when Denil could feel Jak all around him, before they parted and Jak stepped away and put an arm around Charry's shoulders.

"Thank you, all of you, for what you've done," Jak said. "I can never repay you."

"You don't need to, Commander," Sai'em said. "I should probably be thanking you instead."

"As should I," Tir'ac said gravely.

"And me," Jyani said. "If you ever need anything, my people will help you."

"I'll remember that," Jak said.

They all mounted and Sai'em walked Mya over to Jak. She held her head up proudly and raised her hands to cover her eyes briefly before drawing them down in a regal, sweeping motion. There was the faintest hint of sparks trailing after her fingers. Then she picked up her reins and wheeled Mya around to walk out of the gate. Tir'ac dipped his head solemnly and Jyani copied Sai'em's gesture and then they both followed her.

Denil began to speak, to say goodbye again, but he was cut off when Jak shook his head. They held each other's eyes for a long moment before Denil smiled at him and turned his mount to follow the others without looking back.


	4. Serpent in the Shadows: Epilogue

It was a bright spring day when Denil and Tir'ac borrowed horses from the university stables and rode out of Eto to meet Sai'em. The note giving her expected arrival time had appeared on Denil's desk two nights ago. He had been surprised to receive it. Six months ago Sai'em wouldn't have even thought to use magic for something so trivial. It was a sign of the changes in the elf that she was now comfortable enough with magic to use it for something as minor as a note. He suspected that she would still refuse to use it in her research, though.

The last of the snow had melted a couple of weeks ago and the air was now fragrant with new growth and spring sunshine. They halted about a mile beyond the city walls and settled to wait. There was still enough of a chill in the air to make Denil glad of his cloak, but the storms and icy weather of winter were long past. Tir'ac hadn't worn his armour or carried his staff since they returned from his plane. Denil had seen them both carefully stored in a corner of the rooms he'd taken over a bakery, but the Kyari seemed to prefer carrying his sword and occasionally a crossbow. His duties in the city guard never needed more and Tir'ac refused to use any more force than he absolutely had to. Although he wasn't on duty, Tir'ac was wearing the long green coat from his uniform with the city badge pinned to the lapel. People seemed less inclined to challenge a large man with a tattoo on his cheek if he looked like a local official.

"You are fortunate to live in such surroundings," Tir'ac said after a couple of minutes.

The Kyari rarely spoke more than he felt necessary and Denil had noticed that he was slowly attempting to learn the habit of making small talk. It was often stilted and showed signs of careful forethought, but it was obvious that Tir'ac was trying to fit in with his new society.

"It is lovely out here," Denil said with a slight smile. "I'm sure General Garma wouldn't mind if you want to explore now that the weather is better."

"I believe I shall do so, Denil of Errith. Your plane has much to see." Tir'ac's frown was only apparent to someone who knew him well. "I am beginning to understand why Lord Ayulphel wished to reclaim it. None of his domains are as fertile as this."

Denil nodded and they lapsed into companionable silence. It was an hour before two horses rounded the curve in the road ahead and Denil strained his eyes to see details. He pushed his wire spectacles up his nose and managed to make out a white horse with a white-clad rider next to a chestnut horse with a rider dressed in greens and browns. As they drew closer he recognised Sai'em's cap of blonde hair and her companion's auburn hair. Denil nudged his horse into a trot and quickly closed the distance. His grin was answered on Sai'em's face when he reached over to clasp her hand warmly. Tir'ac was more reserved, but there was a hint of a smile as he bowed to both women.

"Welcome home," Denil said with a wide smile.

Jyani looked much better than she had when they parted on the North Road a few months ago. Her hair was no longer dull and lifeless and the deep red tones shone in the sunlight. There was a flush of colour in her face and her brown eyes sparkled as she returned his smile. Even her clothes were different. Russet breeches and jacket and a pale green shirt had replaced the dark green dress. Distinctive elven embroidery twined around the sleeves and down the seams of her breeches. With some of her hair caught in a carved wooden clasp to show off her pointed ears, she looked every inch a wood elf.

"It's good to be home," Sai'em said, gesturing Jyani forward. "I've brought a friend."

"So I see," Denil said. "It's good to see you again, Jyani. You're looking better."

"I feel better," Jyani said with a smile. "And it's Jyanineha Winterleaf now, though Jyani will still do for friends."

Denil returned her smile. "Is this a visit or...?"

"I'd like it to be a long-term appointment, if the Dean can be persuaded," Jyani said. "Sai'em has told me a lot about Eto."

"And you still want to be here?" Denil asked, grinning to let her know it was a joke.

Jyani laughed. "Yes. I think I can be useful here. Humans and elves have different ways of healing and I'd like to see whether they could be combined. Sai'em thinks humans and elves could learn a lot from each other."

They chatted about inconsequential things as they rode back to Eto, the kind of light talk that old friends make when they've been apart for a while. Sai'em pointed out city landmarks to Jyani as they went through the streets and Denil was surprised to find that the wood elf had a bright, mischievous smile and a lively sense of humour. The time with her people had obviously healed some of the damage from her years of imprisonment.

At the stables they dismounted and grooms led the horses away when the elves had retrieved their saddlebags.

Tir'ac shook hands with the women. "It is good to meet you again. I hope that we may spend time together in the future."

Jyani smiled at him and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheeks. "I'd like that, Tir'ac."

The Kyari didn't blush, but his eyes widened and he made a hasty goodbye and left.

"I think you embarrassed him," Sai'em said.

Jyani wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "He has the kind of face that makes you want to do something outrageous just to get an expression out of him."

Sai'em heaved a mock sigh. "I'm not sure I can cope with this."

Denil grinned. "It will be good for you."

He got an aggrieved glare as an answer and hugged her before she could say anything else.

"I'll be in my study if you need me," he said. "Go and get yourself settled."

"I have to see the Dean and then I'll take you up on that," Sai'em said.

* * *

It was a couple of hours past lunch before Sai'em knocked on the door and Denil opened it. She walked in and stopped immediately, both eyebrows rising as she took in the changes. Denil self-consciously led the way to the chairs flanking the hearth and put his kettle on the hook to heat over the crackling fire. Sai'em ignored the hint and strolled over to the bedroom door to peek through.

"I see you've been busy," she said, turning to face him.

Denil shrugged. "It seemed about time."

The sofa in the corner that had been his bed for five years was serving duty as a sofa again. The room was still cluttered with books and papers but it was no longer the mess of a man who didn't care, rather the mess of a busy man with no time to keep everything tidy.

"I've taken on a couple of extra classes," he said. "I'm thinking of asking Jame to be my apprentice when he's a little older."

"Ah."

There was a wealth of understanding in that reply. Denil knew that Sai'em had seen the large, neatly made bed and the clean hearth in the bedroom. He swallowed nervously.

"I see you fixed the chimney at last," she said with a gentle smile.

Denil returned her smile and turned to the boiling kettle to make a pot of tea. The unused bedroom had been a symbol of so much in his life. Making it liveable again had taken days of work but Denil was glad that he had finally made that decision. He wasn't ready to replace Jak, but he was no longer living with the ghost of his wife and he could at least envisage one day finding someone to share his bed again.

Sai'em sat down in one of the armchairs while he was making the tea. Denil poured tea into two mugs and handed one to her.

"Are you planning to request the rooms you're entitled to?" Sai'em asked, inhaling the steam from her tea.

Denil shook his head. "What would I do with a Master's suite? I'd just be rattling around in it."

"If you're taking Jame as an apprentice, you might need it one day."

"He won't be ready to leave the dormitories for a few years yet," Denil replied. "He may not even want to live with me. I didn't move into my Master's suite and my apprenticeship didn't suffer."

Sai'em raised a hand in defeat. "It's your choice."

"Thank you."

"Have you heard from him?"

There was only one 'him' she could be referring to.

"I received a letter a few days ago," Denil said, lowering his eyes to stare at the oily surface of his tea. "It was dated just after we left. I guess it takes a while to get letters this far. Everything seems to be going well and the wizards haven't taken any interest in Charry."

"That's good." Sai'em hesitated. "You miss him, don't you?"

Denil looked up, seeing only concern and empathy in her eyes. "Yes. It's crazy, I know. I only knew him for a couple of months."

"It's not crazy at all."

"I keep thinking that I should tell Jak something or that he'll find something funny, and then I have to remind myself that he's not here."

"Give it some time."

Denil cleared his throat uncomfortably and took a sip of tea. "So, why has Jyani come back with you? The real reason this time."

Sai'em allowed him to change the subject. "We spent a few months in Abéra Forest with her people and it seems to have helped, but those years in captivity changed her a lot. She doesn't feel that she fits in with her people anymore so she asked me about Eto. I told her what I could and she made her decision. The Dean has given her status as a visiting lecturer and she'll probably be added to the Masters permanently when he sees that she has knowledge and research that will be valuable."

"Where is she staying?"

Sai'em coloured slightly. "I've given her the floor below mine in the tower until we can get something more permanent sorted out."

"Wise decision," Denil said mildly, wondering at the betraying flush.

"It was the Dean's suggestion," Sai'em said. "I don't know how happy he is about having two elves in his university."

"He'll get use to it," Denil said.

"Hopefully. Eventually."

"Did you talk to your people about Ayulphel?" Denil asked.

Sai'em immediately became serious. "Yes. I spoke to my father and he met with the Council."

Denil decided that questions about how she talked to her father in the north when she had spent the winter in Abéra Forest could wait. "What did they say?"

"First they apologised."

"Apologised?"

She nodded. "If we had known that any of the plains elves had escaped, we might have acted differently. The Council seemed genuinely surprised to discover that any of them escaped the final battle. We knew that the plains elves had armies of human slaves, but the elves they captured must have been absorbed into the casualty lists. There were thousands of bodies and we always assumed that a lot of the humans had escaped before the last battle. We are truly sorry for not being more thorough during the aftermath."

Denil waved it away. "What else did they say?"

"Well, when they'd finished apologising - which took the best part of three days, apparently - they agreed that I should return this." Sai'em took Denil's sheaf of notes and the small book out of a pocket in her jacket and set them on a low table between their chairs. "It's a human work and you should have some record of the portal spells."

"I'll make sure it's put somewhere safe," Denil promised. "Was that it?"

Sai'em shook her head. "We've spent most of the winter discussing defences. Our cities have always been protected by spells that disrupt portal spells. The Council has agreed to erect similar barriers over Eto and as much of the Gilderaan Wastes as possible. The spells were cast two weeks ago."

"What about Genta?"

"We debated it for a long time, but it was agreed that it's too dangerous to cast such a powerful shield over a city filled with human wizards. We can't protect the whole world so we had to limit our attempts to those areas that were under the most immediate threat and where our interference won't be detrimental."

"You're worried that human magic might interfere with your spells."

She shrugged. "It's a valid concern. I wouldn't want to be in the vicinity if one of their 'experiments' interacted with our magic."

Denil hummed noncommittally. "Anything else?"

"Not much that was useful. They were intrigued by Charry, but he's out of our hands for now. They were trying to come up with a plan to fight the plains elves when I left. That won't go far. We've got no idea what their numbers are or how many planes they control. Even Tir'ac doesn't know."

"Maybe they won't try to come here."

"Maybe," Sai'em said uncertainly, "but I'm not putting money on it. Hopefully, it won't be in your lifetime, anyway."

They talked quietly for another hour, discussing the Council and possible defence plans and catching up on university gossip, before Sai'em stretched and smile apologetically.

"I should get back," she said. "It's been a long trip and I left Jyani alone in the tower."

"Of course," Denil said, standing as she did. "It really is good to have you back."

Sai'em pulled him into a tight hug. "I missed you."

Denil patted her back. "Same here."

They pulled apart and straightened uncomfortably. Sai'em moved to the door and rested her hand on the handle.

"It's been an interesting winter," she said thoughtfully.

"Yes, it has."

"I don't regret it, though," she added.

"Neither do I."

They smiled at each other and Sai'em gave him a small wave. "See you tomorrow."

Then she opened the door and slipped through. Denil put the dirty mugs with the remains of his lunch on a cluttered sideboard where a servant or student would take them to the kitchen later. Although the weather had improved, there was still a chill in the air so he threw an extra log on the fire before settling down at his desk to work. Taking on extra classes meant that the amount of time he had for personal research had reduced, but he was rediscovering the joy he used to take in teaching bright, eager young minds. In fact he was rediscovering a lot of things that he had put aside in the years after Sharra's death.

The day waned into evening and Denil was lighting the lamps around his study when there was a knock on his door. He frowned, holding his taper over the last lamp, and briefly wondered who it could be. No one usually came by for his mugs and plates until morning, but it could be one of the students wanting help with something. One of his older students seemed to come by every couple of days to ask for help with one translation or another. He had suspicions that her attentions were not entirely academic but so far none of her queries had been outside the bounds of her lessons. This was the first evening that he'd had free to work on an obscure volume of Arreish history and he was loath to leave it.

He ignored the knock, lit the last lamp and padded silently back to his desk. He was just about to sit down when the knock came again, more insistently. Denil sighed and scowled at the door. The persistent person on the other side of the door hammered at it again and, grumbling under his breath, Denil walked across the room and opened it. Anything he might have said died on his tongue and he stared wordlessly, drinking in the sight in front of him. For a moment he wondered whether he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming, but a dream could never have conjured up all the details his hungry eyes took in.

Jak looked tired and travel-stained, but he couldn't have looked better to Denil's eyes.

"Hi," Jak drawled after a long moment.

Denil tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

"A speechless linguist," Jak said. "Now there's a first."

Dark circles under his eyes testified to sleepless nights and there were a few extra lines radiating from his eyes. Jak's long coat was mud splattered on the hem and a couple of buttons were missing. Denil absently noted a faintly herbal scent and damp hair, evidence of a recent bath.

"Can I come in?" Jak asked.

Denil nodded and backed away to allow Jak through the door. Jak casually brushed against him as he went past and Denil's heart began to hammer so loudly he was amazed that Jak couldn't hear it. Tearing his eyes away to watch his shaking fingers turn the key to lock the door allowed him to regain some composure before he turned back.

"You've made some changes," Jak said, surveying the room before his gaze returned to Denil.

The scholar found that he was unable to look away, his eyes caught by Jak's and the emotions he could read there. Strangely, it was the hint of uncertainty that pushed him into speaking.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, cursing inwardly for being so blunt. "Not that it's not...I mean...I've...Jak?"

Jak shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. "Our story didn't hold up. The wizards started getting too curious about Charry for comfort so we took a leaf out of your parents' book and snuck out before thaw. I sent Elsa to live with her sister and gave Paet a letter of recommendation for the Wolves. They need a good horse-trainer more than I ever did. Charry and I have been travelling for weeks. We went to the wood elves first and they gave us safe passage part of the way here. Then we've taken the back roads since." His harsh snort of laughter held no humour. "Charry's stronger than he looks."

"Of course he is - he's your son," Denil said.

Jak nodded slowly. "I guess so."

"In every way that counts, he is. You told me that months ago."

"I did. I think he's even believing it again."

"That's good." Denil pushed away from the door and took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Jak's. "So, where are you heading?"

Jak's smile was brief. "I enrolled Charry in the university. He's a bright kid and the elves told me this was the safest place for him."

"It probably is. The wizards won't be able to get to him without starting a war they can't possibly win and Sai'em's people have shielded the city."

"That's what they told me. Charry seems happy. I left him making friends with Sanna and Anna. He practically pushed me out of the door."

Denil's heart was in his mouth as he asked, "What will you do?"

"The commander of your city guard was looking for a second. I saw him as soon as I got Charry settled. I don't have any references from Genta, but he's an ex-Wolf and Tir'ac put in a word. General Garma seems like a decent guy. I start in a few days."

"Sounds fairly permanent."

"I hope it will be." Jak took a step towards Denil. "I've never really considered anywhere to be home, but I like this place."

Denil swallowed and took another step forward. He and Jak were only separated by a few inches of air.

"Where are you planning to live?" he asked.

"Well, Charry wants to live in the dorms with the rest of the kids." Jak suddenly gave Denil a shy smile. "I was hoping that I might be able to bunk down here. Just for a few days, until I'm settled. I'll sleep on the floor if you're not-"

Denil lifted a finger and cut Jak off. "You don't need to sleep on the floor."

"I don't?"

He shook his head. "I had the chimney in the bedroom fixed. Unless you're really attached to the idea of sleeping on the floor, you can sleep in there. With me. For as long as you want."

"I won't assume-"

Denil cut him off by the simple expedient of hooking his hand behind Jak's neck and pulling him into a kiss. He closed his eyes to savour the flavour that was uniquely Jak and felt all the hesitancy evaporate from the other man as Jak wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Denil kissed hungrily, revelling in the feel of Jak after months of missing him with an intensity that had almost been a physical ache. Jak's hair was as soft as he remembered, his skin was warm and his mouth was hot and wet. Denil wrapped an arm around Jak's waist and kept his other hand on Jak's neck to hold them together until they had to pull apart and catch their breath. Even then they only moved apart a few inches and Denil's eyes were immediately caught by Jak's again. He moved his hand to trace Jak's scarred eyebrow and Jak captured it and held it against his cheek.

"I missed you," Jak rasped, "so much."

"I missed you, too," Denil said shakily. "It felt like there was a part of me missing."

Jak softly kissed him. "I don't think I ever told you, but I love you."

Denil had never expected to hear those words, accepting that Jak cared for him without wanting to pressure the man into any declarations, so he was surprised to feel an aching hole he'd never been aware of before close as Jak spoke. He suddenly felt so light that he wondered why he didn't float and a grin spread across his face.

"I love you too," he said.

Jak released a breath, as though he'd been afraid that Denil would reject him. Denil watched in amazement as tension suddenly drained from Jak's face and he realised that the other man wasn't as confident as he always seemed. It was a strange revelation and Denil made a private vow never to take advantage of that knowledge.

"I'm not good at relationships," Jak said. "I can't promise that we won't fight-"

"I think we're guaranteed to fight sometimes," Denil said.

Jak grinned. "We'll get lots of practise at make-up sex."

"Sounds fun."

"I will probably be an ass every now and again."

"I guessed that."

"There are going to be days when I'd rather have hot pokers shoved up my ass than talk about my feelings."

"You will talk," Denil said firmly.

"Can I finish this? I practised it the whole way here."

Denil grinned and nodded.

"Good." Jak released Denil's hand and wrapped his arm around Denil's waist again. "This isn't going to be perfect. I have no experience with making relationships work and I'll probably make a lot of mistakes. I'm probably not going to tell you that I love you very often, but you should know that what I feel now won't change except to get stronger. All I can do is ask you to have patience with me and give me a good kick if I start acting like an idiot."

"Promise me the same and we'll be even." Denil rolled his eyes at Jak's surprised expression. "One marriage doesn't make me an expert with relationships and what I have with you is very different to what I had with Sharra."

"Good different or...?"

"Good different."

Jak grinned at him. "I'm glad."

"So am I."

"So, what do we do now?"

It was a strange echo of their conversation the first night they began their relationship. Denil leaned forward and brushed his lips over Jak's. "Did you bring much luggage?"

"We were in a hurry. Most of it is Charry's. The rest is sitting outside your door."

"It's safe enough for now, then."

"What are you planning?"

Denil gave him what he hoped was a seductive look.

"I've missed you," he said huskily.

Jak's grin was wicked. "I like where your mind is going."

All thought of students, work and wizards vanished as Denil moved out of Jak's embrace, took his hand and tugged him into their bedroom.

*fin*


End file.
